Covered In Black Ink
by ClassicSix
Summary: The official report says Noble Six had gone missing in action after the battle on Reach. However the unofficial report? Being recovered by the Office of Naval Intelligence B-312 is reassigned as the most dangerous asset the Office as to offer. His mission, to cover up an experimental Project previously funded by ONI. But what other secrets are hidden underneath all this black ink?
1. Life After Die

**Hello everyone and welcome to my story! I have written most of this on another site but with my motivation to write this story growing with each person that reads it I want to publish this on more than one site. That way I have the chance to show many people! Red vs Blue is one of my ****favorite TV shows? Online Shows? Not sure, but anyway I love this series and seeing the way that it has been playing out is sad but also. . .giving me inspiration to write some more. That way I can change what things I don't like or just try to make them better. This story focuses on Noble Six, the generic Six we see in cut scenes. So just picture that guy when reading this. Anyway I hope you like it! **

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It did not take long for Reach to fall, our enemy was ruthless, efficient, but they weren't nearly fast enough. For you had already passed the torch. . .

It was just black, there was no light nor was there any sound. His body felt as if it was submerged into water. A deep black pit of water that seemed to have no bottom or no top. Yet despite this feeling he felt okay. He could breath, he was not panicked or gasping for air. He was just. . .okay. But there was another feeling there, something pulling at the back of his mind as he floated aimlessly in nothing.

Where was he? How had he gotten there? Was everyone okay? There were so many questions, yet he was alone here. There was no one here to pull him back up once he had fallen within this pit. There was no one to tell him to stand back on his feet or keep pressing. He was just here. Alone. . .once again.

It didn't used to be like this, he had people, he had teammates that he began to lean on. Soldiers that he trusted with his life. Family that he began to relax around and finally feel apart of something more than just himself. Yet now, this was all he had left. Black, nothing, empty. Then again, there was this continuous pull at the back of his mind. Like a voice that he couldn't focus on but knew it was there.

His hand raised in front of his face as he reached to grab whatever was in front of him. Whoever was in front of him. What could it be? He kept reaching and reaching before finally light shined in between his fingers. There was no end to be seen but it looked as if it was right there. He just had to keep going. The more he reached, the more he went towards a light, the less the black was around him, the less he felt submerged in water.

_"You aren't done yet, Number Six. Time to get up." _

A voice, someone he knew so well. Someone he had come to rely on, someone he wanted to save during the battle. But someone he knew wanted to protect the planet he had grown up on. He knew that there was no other person on that planet that loved it more than he did. He wanted to die protecting it, even if in the end it matter little. He was telling him to stand up, telling him to fight. All he had to do was keep reaching.

Finally his eyes opened, there was no blackness anymore, there was no voice. Just what laid above him. Right now it was a shiny white ceiling, a simple light fixture flush with the rest of the ceiling panels. Slowly sitting up he could feel the cloth of the blanket around his legs. The softness of the bed underneath his body. Yet as he moved to sit up straight his body reacted, shooting a sore pain through out his core.

Reaching to hold his pained center he would look down to see the bandages that were wrapped around his chest. The soldier had no armor, no weapons, just a simple pair of pants that did well to keep him warm and cover him. Yet there was no shirt, making sure to keep the bandages accessible. From what it looked like there was no more bleeding. All clean and white, tightly wrapped around him to support his chest and sore areas.

His eyes would move from his own person to the area around him. Nothing too important nor anything that stood out to his eye. It was a simple room, a hospital room if he had to guess. Yet the there were no windows either, barely any decoration. Typical for a military type of health building or clinic.

It would not be too long before his eyes were drawn to the door to his room. The signature 'swish' and hissing sound of the door as it opened without command to a person walking into the room. Looking over the person that walked in, it was not hard to tell that the man was of middle age. A doctor from what it looked like as he was dressed in a white coat and held a tablet in his hands.

His attention was drawn into the tablet, not noticing that his patient had already awoken from his health related sleep. Grabbing the glasses off his face, he would place them within his pocket of the coat before looking up from his tablet. Looking to see that his patient had already began sitting up, he would widen his eyes before smiling and walking over.

"So you woke up already?" He asked, stopping his approach next to his bed and looking over the soldier. The doctor scanned over his patients body, checking the bandages and seeing that they indeed had no bleed marks, nor did they seemed tampered with. He raised his tablet and typed in the information before regarding the patient once more. "How do you feel, Noble Six? You took quite the beating, most of us weren't expecting you to be awake this early but I'm sure the commander will be pleased." He said, finishing the work he had on his tablet before once again pressing it against his body.

"I feel fine, Sir. Just a little sore." Noble Six spoke simply, his voice unchanging through his sentence. As expected from a Spartan. Though this time there was more to his monotone voice than just what he had been taught. It would seem the doctor had already taken notice to that.

"That's to be expected." He said with a small smile and a nod of his head. "You did fight a whole army by yourself. Just because you have some fancy armor doesn't make you invincible. You'll need time to heal, though most of your wounds have already closed. The soreness should be gone within the next few days. Depending on how easy you want to take it." A small attempt at a joke, mostly to lighten the mood.

Noble Six nodded his head slightly and looked around the room once more. "Where am I?"

"Ah yes. . ." The doctor walked over to the wall farthest away from Noble Six's bed and typed into a key pad. Upon pressing a button the while wall lifted, showing behind it what was a window to the outside world. Yet there was no world, it was black limitless. Space. "We're in orbit. You're currently on one of the Office's classified Space Cruisers. We were ordered to stay within the planet's orbit until you've recovered. Not to mention staying here is our best bet right now."

Noble Six's eyes went to the window, behind the Doctor was the planet he was talking about. Planet Reach. It wasn't how he had remembered it. There was no green, nor was there any blue. Any traces of life on that planet seemed to have disappeared for now it was brown and empty. The slight hint of red indicating the planets surface was still cooling after the Covenant had glassed the planet.

"How long have I been out?" The Spartan asked, removing his eyes from the planet's surface and facing the Doctor once more.

The medical personnel could see the look in the Spartan's eyes. Despite them being inhumanly good at hiding their emotions and intentions, the way Noble Six kept his eyes on the surface of the planet only meant one thought was going through his mind. The battle of Reach. The Doctor could not help but look at the Spartan with a sadden look.

"A couple days. We were expecting you to be out longer, but it seems that you had other plans." The Doctor turned and pressed the key on the keypad once more, closing the window to outside the ship. Walking closer to Noble Six again he stopped and pulled out his glasses. Looking over the information concerning the Spartan. "From what it looks like, you should be cleared from bed rest by the end of the day. You'll still be sore, but you'll be field ready soon. The Commander wants you up and running as soon as possible, otherwise I would have you rest for a little longer."

The Doctor sighed and placed his glasses back within his pocket. Closing the information on the tablet before walking over to the bed. He stood next to the small night stand that was positioned next to the bed. There he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. The sound of thin metal banging and clanking as the objects rubbed into each other. "I have these for you as well. I'll just leave them here." He said, opening his hand and placing them on the table top.

What he left there was multiple sets of Dog tags, all wrapped and tangled together but each on their own chain. The sliver metal was dirtied as brown dirt covered some or most of their surfaces. The Spartan's eyes would go to them, looking at them closely before going back to the doctor. "That's all I really have for you right now," He said adjusting his coat. "Someone else will be in shortly to check on you and most likely clear you to go and see the Commander. Once you get your final medical evaluation, you'll be sent to get your armor. We had to send it to the armory for repairs, though it was pretty banged up. Usually the UNSC would probably just issue another set and destroy the original but we don't have the time nor recourses to do that. So we are working with what we have."

The Doctor continued, "In addition to that we recovered some of your weapons left on the battle field. Your standard Magnum pistol, your Assault Rifle, and your DMR. They will be issued to you once you receive orders to process out and you get cleared by the Commander herself. If you need anything just press the button on the top of the rail. Feel free to walk around and stretch your legs but I wouldn't leave the room until you've had your appointment." The Doctor finished before nodding his head and offering a smile.

Once he turned around the Spartan lowered his head and spoke up. Stopping the doctor in his walk and getting him to turn and face Noble Six. "What about Emile, Spartan A-239? Did you recover his body?" Noble Six asked, keeping his eyes planted on his hands resting on his lap.

The Doctor frowned for a second before nodding his head slowly. "We did. . .we haven't done anything yet, concerning his burial. That was scheduled for today. I can postpone it till tomorrow sometime if you wish to visit him sometime later today?"

Noble Six nodded slightly. "If you could, Sir." He answered simply, refusing to look up and face the Doctor.

"Of course, it's the least I could do." The Doctor took one step to turn around before stopping. Looking to the ground himself he stopped to think of the words he should say. Biting his lip for a second he spoke. "You saved a lot of people. . .You and your team are heroes. I just. . .I wanted you to know that we are very grateful for what you did. I wanted to be the first to thank you, and say I'm sorry."

There was no movement from Noble Six. There was no change. He just sat there with his head lowered. For him, there was no need for a sorry or a thank you. He was just doing what he needed to do, what he was supposed to do. Anyone else would have done the same if they were in his position. He just wished he could have been stronger to save them, to protect them. He just wished he had more time. "I was just doing my job. Anyone would have done the same thing I did."

The Doctor quickly shook his head to the side. "No, I don't think they would have." That was all he said before he looked to the door and took a step forward. The door responding to his movements and opening and closing once he stepped through and cleared the door. Once it hit the ground there was no one else in that room other than Noble Six. Just him and his thoughts.

Looking away from his lap, Noble Six looked to the night stand. Sitting on top of the night stand was the set of dog tags. Reaching for them he grabbed them in his hand and brought them over. Shuffling the individual tags between his fingers, he made sure to rub his thumb over top the surface to wipe away any dirt or grim that had dirtied them.

The Spartan looked at all of them individually, making sure to remember and recall the times he had spent with the that member of Noble Team. That was all he had left. Their name on a metal tag, usually used to identify who they were when they died if the body was too damaged to identify. Yet now they represented the only item that tied Noble Six to them still, the only physical piece of them left.

They were all there, Noble One Carter, Noble Two Kat, Noble Four Emile, Noble Five Jorge, all but one. Noble Three Jun. There was hope in Noble Six's mind that Jun had made it off Reach alive. Of course right now he had no way of contacting him. But when Six was one Reach before his final stand he had tried to find some way of getting signal or sign from the Sniper.

Of course there was no response, the planet had been blanketed with radiation. The radio signal had been blocked many times over and the only outcome that came from sending such a signal was the Covenant tracking his position. In the end sending those signals were worth it every time but Noble Six just wished he knew whether or not Jun was alive. Maybe he would not be forced to be a Lone Wolf once more.

Looking towards the window that was currently covered, the Spartan swung his feet over the side of the bed before pushing himself slowly out. His body still ached, and his chest and body were sore. However, all it took was a little stiff movements and he was able to effectively get out of bed and walk over to the window. Pressing the same button as the doctor the window slowly slide open Revealing the view of Reach, or what was left of it, and the black space behind it.

Gripping the dog tags in his hand tightly he looked out to the planet. Nothing but thoughts about the war crossed his mind. He could not help but play the final moments of each member in his head over and over again. Yet there was one person that came to his mind the most. Jorge. His final words being, _"tell them to make it count". _But look at the planet now. He failed. . .he failed all of them.

The sound of the door opening once more would drag Noble Six's attention away from the window and make him turn around. When he did so he locked gazes with a nurse. Holding her own tablet, however upon making eye contact with Noble Six she stopped in her tracks for a second. Seeming to look over his body, whether she was surprised by the shape he was in or the condition was unknown to him. But it seemed to pass as soon as it came onto her face.

She smiled, walking into the room and holding her tablet out. "Hi there. . .Lieutenant. I'm here to do your final check so you can get cleared to go and put your armor back on. They just finished it not too long ago." She said, "I'm just going to look over your wounds and make sure they are healing nicely. If they are we can go ahead and get these bandages off and send you over to the armory, okay?"

The Spartan nodded his head, "Yes, Ma'am." He said, walking over to her and standing straight so she could take a look at his chest.

She leaned closely and looked over his bandages. Untying them slightly to look underneath. There was no open bleeding and it seemed that his body was already in the process of healing over the scabs. Taking note of his condition in her tablet, the nurse began to slowly pull the bandages off his body. She could not help but notice how truly beaten up the Spartan had gotten from his battle on Reach.

The smaller wounds were burn and spike wounds. Towards the lower right side of his stomach. Most would heal but some of the deeper cuts and burns would cause scarring. However the largest of the wounds was the centralized stab wound done by the Elite with the energy dagger. A clean stab wound, however deep and wide enough to leave a scar. Right now that seemed to be the worst looking of the bunch, with staples and stitches to match. She hummed slightly and took another note before swiping away at her tablet.

"You look a lot better than you did when you first got here, I'll go ahead and sign off on this form so you can go ahead and get your armor back on. However. . .I just want you to know that this wound in your stomach is going to take a little longer to heal. Just be mindful when you are moving out on the field. If you reopen it, it'll end up worse and send you back to bed rest." She said as she stepped back from the Spartan. She grabbed a folded white shirt and placed it on the bed next to him. "I'm sure you'll want to wear this down the hallway."

"Thank you," He said grabbing the shirt and putting it on. He then slid the dog tags into his pocket before looking towards the door. Before he could leave the nurse stopped him one last time.

"The armory you'll be looking for is down the hall to the right. They should know you are coming. After you get your armor on you'll have to report to the Commander. I'm sure after that you'll be dismissed for the rest of the day. Make sure to grab everything out of this room. You'll be staying in an actual room for tonight." The nurse said, walking over to the door next to him. "Oh, and Spartan. . .Thank you." She added before she left walking through the doorway.

The Spartan stopped for a moment and thought about what she had just said. Another thank you. It felt so weird to be thanked for just doing his job. Yet there was more to it than that. He did not do anything worth thanking him for. The people that should be thanked are those that gave their lives. His team. . .they were the real heroes on Reach, not him. Without them, there was no way he would have completed his mission. If it was not for them, he would not be alive right now.

They all gave their life for him. In one way or another they died so he could live another day. They placed their faith in him, someone that was new to the team. Someone that replaced a former team member. They trusted him that much. And yet. . .look where it got them. He would make it right, he had to. That was his duty now, even if it killed him.

Looking towards the door he walked to the armory. He passed a couple people on the way, yet he paid no attention to their face nor their expression. His eyes were locked towards the ground, one foot at a time. It would not be long before he found himself in front of the door. Turning to walk in, he was met with another face. A soldier this time, looking up from his tablet and standing at attention.

"Good afternoon, Sir. We have everything ready for you. Please step forward and we can get this done as soon as possible." He said stiffly, it was true that Six was still an officer, so he held that officer atmosphere around the enlisted members.

Noble Six followed the instructions of the soldier. Walking forward and stepping within the mentioned spot. It was a simple armor rack. A way to stand and allow the personnel to dress him in his armor. First of course he was outfitted with the classic black under suit. It was much like a skin tight deep swimming suit that did well to keep him warm and comfortable in many environments.

Next came his classic black armor. The mark five, bravo. The black paint barely painted back on. Due to the time they could not cover all the burns and cuts that were done to it. So it was still battle worn. Yet it was his armor and it felt familiar. The technician pulled out what seemed to be a screw gun. He held it up, pulling the trigger a couple of times to test it. As it spun it created a whining sound, almost like something being spun up. It was very unique and distinct.

Yet the more the Spartan listened to that sound, the more it began to sound like gun shots. His eyes became unfocused, before too long the noises around him were that of a war. Explosions and gun shots, screams and orders. All be shouted at once. His ears began to rang as he lost track of time. This was Reach. He could hear it. It was haunting him over and over again. The loss of so many people burned into his mind.

Then he heard his commanders voice, Noble One Carter. Between the explosions he could hear his voice yelling out to him. _"Move forward Noble Six! Six! Six!"_ Yet the words drowned out once more as the room become silent. Soon the voice of his former commander was gone and it went back to the technician in the room. "Sir? Sir?" He said over and over again trying to gain the Spartans attention.

Noble Six's eyes went to the soldier as he regained his focus. Upon seeing he had gotten the Spartans attention he nodded his head. "You're all set, all you have to do is grab your helmet. You'll be free to come back later and get your weapons once the commander gives the order. . ." He was silent for a moment, wondering if he should mention what had just happened. He sighed and began to walk away. "I'll leave you to it, Sir."

It would not be long before Noble Six was left to himself once again. There was nothing but silence. He took a step forward, the familiar sound of his boot connecting with the metal ground and creating that certain, crash. He looked down at himself, holding his hand up and turning them over. His armor felt just as it did before he got hurt. His fingers ran over his chest, the burns from when he fell from the atmosphere still there. The only difference now was that the chest piece was fixed.

Turning his head Six looked at his helmet. No major repairs but the single bullet hole that cracked his HUD before. He walked over to it, grabbing the helmet and holding it before his face. Looking into the orange tainted visor. Once he put this helmet back on he would be Noble Six once more. He would be the man that survived Reach. There was so many scenes burned into this very visor. There was still more to come. He only could ask himself why. Why had he been saved?

Usually asking such a question would lead to no where. But this. . .this was different. He would have been happy dying on Reach. There was a reason why he stayed behind and allowed the Pillar of Autumn to leave him. He was a member of Noble Team, he wanted to die that way too. But here he was, the lone survivor. Back to being a lone wolf. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe he was not fit to be apart of a team.

Six turned the helmet around, slowly placing it on his head. His HUD activated and for the first time since the fall of Reach, he was a Spartan again. He was Noble Six, alive and the last of Noble Team.

Pulling out the Noble Team dog tags, Six looked down at them within his hand. There was so many things he owed them for. With them he had finally felt like he belonged in a team. Before that he never fit in anywhere. All his previous teams felt scared, intimidated from him and his skill. His ability to follow orders. They were scared of black ink that covered him and his file. He would make sure that no matter what happened in the future, he would stay a member of Noble Team. He would fight as Noble Six, he would make sure he made everything right again. He would not waste this chance they all fought and died for. Not this time.

Clutching the tags in his hands he looked up. Placing them within the center piece of his chest plate and taking a step forward. His next stop was the commanders office. No doubt to brief him on his next mission. Though he felt sore still and the deaths of Noble Team still weighed heavily on his mind. He would continue to fight. Whatever assignment was given to him next, he would make sure it was done.

But, there was one thought he had. He wanted to return to the war. He wanted to help fight the Covenant and make sure they could not do what they did to Reach. He had lived through it, making sure that would not happen to Earth would be a nice way of paying them back for what they did. Not only to his team but also to the billions of innocent people.

Of course something told Noble Six that if they wanted him fighting in that war, they would have already sent him out. The Covenant War was a deadly war, one that took many lives and resources. A Spartan was a very valuable asset, one that could turn the tide of a single battle as soon as he stepped foot on the ground. Not only because of their skill, but also because of the impact they had on morale.

Having a Spartan fight next to someone was described as having a second wind. It was as if you had someone watching over you, a pillar that could not be broken fighting for the same reason you were fighting for. Every Marine and ODST fought that much harder when they had a Spartan backing them up. To them, there was nothing that could kill a Spartan. Noble Six was no different.

When fighting next to the many soldiers on Reach they watched him constantly survive battle after battle, save life after life and kill Elite after Elite. For them, it was like watching a symbol fight. Inspiring them to fight harder, a feeling that they could not lose because he was there. Many times after a battle, despite the losses, Six would be thanked by his comrades. Of course he was just doing his job.

But that also brought up another question then. If the UNSC did not want Noble Six fighting in the War then what did they want him for? He doubted it was a coincidence that he was on an ONI cruiser. He had plenty of experience in the past with ONI and he knew that nothing they did happened for no reason. They were always planning. This was probably no different. The only question this time was, for what?

If it was not the war, which seemed to be most of humanity's concern at the moment, what did they need him for? A hyper lethal Spartan, not fighting the most important fight humanity has ever fought. What was that much more important?

Six could not answer that, but he would find out shortly. Standing in front of the office for the commander of the ship, Noble Six raised his hand and knocked. Upon hearing a verbal enter, he did so. Walking briskly to the desk and rendering a proper salute to a commanding officer.

However this was not just any officer. This was the head of ONI, Admiral Margaret Parangosky. Of course Six had known her well. She had been _his_ commanding officer long before he had been apart of Noble Team. He was referred to as ONI's personal Grim Reaper, in all actuality he was _her_ personal Grim Reaper.

The Admiral turned from her desk to stand and face the Spartan. At this point Six offered the proper custom and curtsy. "Ma'am Spartan B-312 reports as ordered." He said holding his salute.

She nodded her head for a moment before giving the Spartan her own salute, in which she dropped hers and Six followed. The admiral sat down at her desk and sat up straight. Looking directly at the Spartan as she folded her hands on top of the desk. A small smile on her face. Though this smile had more layers to it than it looked. The Spartan could tell.

"Please Spartan, stand at ease." She spoke, at which Six complied by slightly standing a bit more relaxed, though he said nothing. "It's good to see you again, though of course I heard about your team. I am very sorry. I heard that you did well on that assignment, that is to no surprise to me. You always were the best we had here at the Office." She said, speaking in a calm manner, though her words were sharp. If one was not careful. She would tear you apart in a second. Truly terrifying.

"I'm happy to see you are back on your feet. As always you are eager to work, though knowing you, you are probably wondering what assignment I have in mind for you. First let's start off with the simple pieces to the puzzle. I am reinstating your title as headhunter. Effective Immediately." She ordered, though after she spoke. She had reached down into her desk and pulled out a folder. Labeled 'classified'.

Yet such an announcement came to a surprise to Noble Six. Of all the assignments he thought he would be sent on, this was not one of them. Being a head hunter meant that he, yet again, would be adding more black ink to his profile. They had something very secret in mind for him, especially if the Admiral was the one giving the order. It would not surprise the Spartan if she had not even told most of the Office. There were indeed a select few people that even knew half of his information.

"We've already taken the liberty of updating your file, to include your reinstatement and also your time on Reach. However, there is another piece we had to update as well. Your status. . ." She reached for the keyboard to her computer, typing in a couple of things before a display was presented before him. His status read. . . "Officially, to the UNSC and it's database. Noble Six died on planet Reach, a hero and a warrior. This physical copy here is the only file in existence that states you are alive and under ONI once more. This is important for your assignment."

Six understood what she was saying. She was saying that he was unable to make contact with the UNSC, he had to stay dead. At least for now. That's why they needed him, it was starting to come together. But once again he had to ask himself. What for? "I understand, Ma'am."

She pressed a button and the display disappeared, leaning forward once more with her hands on the desk she spoke. "Good. Only myself, and the select few personnel we allowed you to see today know of your survival. Secondly do not worry, we won't be issuing you a headhunter partner. You'll be alone on this assignment, per your usual preference. As for contact, for this assignment you'll be mostly on your own. This means you'll have full authority over your actions and how you wish to complete this mission. Yet, I will be updating your orders at certain times should the situation arise. If this does happen, you are to complete the updated order and then return to your current task as you were."

So he would be mostly off the record on this one as well. It would seem that the Admiral wanted to keep this more secret than most of the other assignments he had been on before. Six could remember only a couple of times when he was given full authority over his mission. That would mean that this will be a long term mission, that way ONI does not have to waste resources constantly updating and keeping track of him. Not to mention doing so, runs the risk of others and the enemy finding out. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Now then, I'm sure you want to know what your assignment is?" She asked, once again typing some information into her computer before the display appeared once more. This time however there was something else on it. Information concerning a project. Names of personnel, equipment, travel logs, communication, mission logs, everything they could find. Or so it seemed. The Admiral stood from her chair and walked to the side of her desk. "Before the war on Reach, the Office was looking into other ways to provide super soldiers. The Spartans provided excellent results but were expensive. We wanted effective results with time and cost in mind."

She tapped a button once more and changed the display to a logo, official enlistment logs of this Project and ONI. "As a result we funded a Project that was to research ways to create equipment that would allow any ordinary soldier to perform as Spartan. Increasing the overall lethal capabilities of our armies against our adversaries. We code named this Project. . ." She stopped changing the display once more, crossing her arms and turning towards Six.

This time it showed a picture, a group of soldiers in armor that looked to be designs of Spartan armor. Most looked to be a Mark 5 or perhaps a newer variant. Yet the build said soldiers had were not that of a Spartan. Soldiers that seemed of average height. It was clear this was the experimental equipment she had been talking about.

"Project Freelancer,"

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**I want to thank everyone for reading this first Chapter! Please tell me what you think and hopefully we can get some more Chapters out to you guys! I want to write more RvB stories in the future but want to get this one out there to get my foot in the door with this. I have not decided what other story I want to write but maybe you all can help me with that in the future. Please review and tell me what you guys think! I want to hear from you guys! Anyway thank you for reading and I will check you all later!**


	2. Project Freelancer

**Welcome back everyone to chapter two, I hoped you like the first one! Not much to say other than thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let us get right into it!**

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"Project Freelancer,"

The name rattled around in his head a little while. He repeated it to himself over and over again. This Project, this was his next assignment. The next paragraph in his file to be blacked out, covered and hidden away. Much like how he was now. He was a ghost, submerged in secrecy over his death and now being assigned a mission that needed to stay with the dead.

But this. . .this was nothing new to him. He had done this before, making entire Militia groups disappear in one single night. That's all it took, then their news could be swept under the rug and locked away from the general population of the UNSC. But. . .how would his team feel about this? Carter. . .his commander had told him to leave everything behind. Everything that made him a Lone Wolf. To Six, that meant more than just, stop acting alone.

When Noble Six was considered a Lone Wolf, before he was known as 'Noble Six'. He was entirely alone. He had no partners, no supervisors. He just reported directly to ONI, once to confirm the mission was completed. All the targets had been neutralized, and all the evidence had been destroyed. The second time was to get his next assignment. It was very rarely that he had an actual break, time in between missions. But at the time that was the way he wanted it to be.

Before Noble Team, Six never really fit in with anyone. Even in his days before he had earned the title of Spartan. As he was going through Basic Training and becoming a weapon, his skills set him apart from his peers. They never wanted to lean on him, they never wanted to ask him for help, they were all afraid and distant. They felt he was too skilled for him, already on another level. He was isolated.

After a while he became comfortable that way. When you had just you, there was no one to worry about, no one to distract you from your mission. No one to lose on the battle field. The Lone Wolf, the one who left the pack and grew on his own. One kill at a time.

Noble Team however. . .they were different.

Carter did not care about his skills, his past, nor the people he had killed in his time as a Headhunter. All that black ink, it was invisible to the commander. It did not matter. He was just happy to have another member. It was the same with the rest of them, they did not care about his status, they just knew they had to work together. And they worked together well.

The first team that did not make Six feel different, they did not make him feel ahead of the pack or a different breed. He was just a Spartan, there to do a job just like the rest of them. They accepted him and he came to rely on them to watch his back. A task he would have never given anyone in the past.

But now, the situation was different. He had no team, they were all dead. All sacrificing their lives not only so he could live, but also so innocent people could, so humanity could live. Six would make sure that he would not waste that chance they gave him, the opportunities and dreams they passed on to him. But he would have to do what he was ordered to do.

He was a weapon, he was made for this very purpose. To make people disappear. That was something he was always good at, that was why ONI wanted him in the first place. His job was to ensure humanity survived and thrived, his specialty was to do it in the shadows. So no one else had to.

This Project, these Agents, they were just more names on a list. His next assignment. He had to follow orders. One more assignment.

"I'm sure you've already put together your assignment," The Admiral said, breaking Noble Six out of his thoughts as his eyes refocused on the woman before him. She crossed her arms. Closing out all images that were presented before him and spoke directly to the Spartan. "Your main target is Director Leonard Church. However you are to ensure that nothing gets leaked to the public. All Agents are to be handled. . .one way or another. Bring them in, or take them out."

The Admiral stood up from her leaned position and walked to the other side of the desk. Sitting back down in her chair before sliding forward into her desk. She reached into the desk and pulled something else out, a small drive. What seemed to be a data drive that could be plugged into any UNSC secure computer and accessed.

"Any Freelancer equipment should be destroyed or recovered if you have the opportunity but your main priority is neutralization of the personnel. I should not have to tell you how big of a security risk this is. If information gets leaked that a project we funded went rouge and is using experimental equipment to harm civilians, the population will lose faith in us. It will draw recourses from the war and no doubt result in defeat." The Admiral placed the drive down on the desk and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes.

"You have a huge responsibility Noble Six, we are trusting you to get the job done and get back out there fighting the big fight. Do you understand?" She spoke simply and clearly. There was no questions, there was no uncertainties. Another mission that had to get done.

"I understand, Ma'am." Noble Six said. Though his voice was clear, his mind was not. There was still a great deal he was thinking about when it came to the war he had just survived. But that would have to wait. This life, it was never over. It just repeated over and over again. This is who he was.

"Good, I knew we could count on you Spartan. You were always the best we had. The deadliest Headhunter we have ever sent out into the field. I know you'll handle this job, the way it needs to be done." That was code word for, making sure everyone was quiet. Noble Six usually was not one to bring people in. Locking them away for the rest of their days, seeing no light, having no freedom. That almost seemed as bad as torture. Dying was a quicker way to end it all. And it would seem that the Admiral was not one for bringing people back alive either.

"Take this," She spoke up once more, breaking the Spartan out of his thoughts as he slid the drive over the table. "This has all the information we have on Project Freelancer. You should find everything you need to begin your mission. If you have any other questions, you know how to contact us. Other than that, you are dismissed. You are free to leave the cruiser after zero hundred hours." The Admiral went to look away before she raised her head once more and spoke. "I forgot to mention, we will be issuing you a Sabre class space fighter, it's a prototype that we have equipped with a small slip space drive. It should get you where you need to go."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Noble Six said as he took one step back from the desk and rendered a proper salute. Given that he was now dismissed he had some places he wanted to go and visit before he left this place.

The Admiral returned the gesture and dropped her hand, for the Spartan followed. Placing the date drive in the center of his hand and closing his hand, Six turned around and walked towards the door. Watching as it opened before him as he stepped through. As he took a step outside, he began to walk towards his room. Which had been updated on his HUD upon placing his armor back on. He would need to research some of the information provided to him by the Admiral about Project Freelancer.

Though this assignment, there was something about it the did not sit well with the Spartan. If this was such a big deal, ONI should have handled long before Six was found to be alive on Reach. The timing of this assignment seemed almost too close for comfort. ONI was good, but the Spartan did not think they were that good to predict that he would survive such a firefight.

At the end of the day however, it was no his place to question. He was a Spartan, he was made to follow orders and not ask questions. That was the job he was given and that was apart of the oath he swore to. He would follow the orders of the officers appointed over him. Whether he liked to do so or not. This, mission. . .was just another job, one that would be over sooner or later. Of course there was no specific date, but Six was willing to spend as much time as he needed to complete the task at hand.

So much more black ink. It was almost like he could not get away from it. But he could not help but think about what Carter said to him the first day he was on Reach. _'I've read your file, even the parts ONI didn't want me to see. I'm happy to have your skill set on my team. However, that Lone Wolf stuff stays behind.' _

It was almost like some sort of joke. Not even a week after the death of his team he was back doing what he had been told not to do. Being placed in a position he thought he had left when he arrived on Reach. He was back to being alone, working alone, and being isolated. He was back to hiding behind black ink and classified stamps, he was back to making people disappear.

In that end, it just seemed like that was who he was. That was his purpose, the reason he was created. The reason they made him into a Spartan.

To cover the world in black ink.

After his briefing with the Admiral, Noble Six made his way to his room. Highlighted on his HUD shortly after he was cleared from the medical wing of the ship. As he walked down the hallways he lost himself within his own thoughts. Holding the data drive that was given to him in his hand as he took step by step to his room.

There was a lot of information that he had to process, to get in the mindset to plan another assignment. Yet there was more to it than that. He almost wondered if it was too early for him to be assigned to another mission. He held great amounts of guilt when it came to the fall of Reach. Being the only surviving member of Noble Team, with the exception of Jun, who Six was not sure if he was alive or not, weighed heavily on his mind.

There were many times in the past twenty four hours that he thought of actions he could have taken on Reach to maybe save more lives, to save his team. Maybe if he had done this then maybe this person would still be alive. It was a lot of if and buts and the Spartan knew that there was nothing he could do now about the situation he was in. However he could not help himself, he could not help but feel responsible for their death.

Looking up slightly, his orange visor reflected the object in front of him. The door to his room. Blank and white just as the rest of the ship was. He slightly turned his head to the small key pad that was to the side of the doorway. An entry keypad that would require a code to allow the door to open. Six pressed on the keypad, typing in his Spartan identification number. 'B-312'.

With a selective beep, the keypad turned green and the door opened before him. The Spartan took a step inside and looked around. It was a simple room with a bed, nightstand, desk, and a room for the bathroom. However on top of the desk was an information access kiosk. Six walked briskly over to the desk and stood in front of it.

Raising his hand forward he opened it, sitting within the palm of his hand the data drive that was given to him. He moved his head to the kiosk and looked at it for a moment before deciding to act. Moving forward slightly he took the data drive and plugged it into the appropriate slot. The kiosk reacted to the new drive being plugged in and turned on.

It projected an image, the blue hologram acting as the screen to a computer. An ONI symbol appeared on the screen with a small loading bar. The bar slowly filled before stopping for a second. Right before being full all the way.

The Spartan lowered his head for a moment, looking at the loading bar. Did these information kiosks always take this long to load? Should he. . .do something? Six stood quietly for a little while longer, watching the screen. He raised his hand slowly, reaching for the drive to pull it out and put it back in. Though before he grabbed the drive the screen loaded, pulling his hand back. He watched as the screen changed.

Six looked at the files that appeared before him. It was everything that ONI had on this new Project Freelancer. Personnel files, weapons, equipment, supply orders, ship details, everything one could dig up. It was right here.

The Spartan raised his hand and cycled through the files. Looking through each of the options that were presented before him. The screen reflected off of his visor as he looked silently at the information before him._ 'Experimental Weapons' _Six scrolled one more before he stopped on the next file. _'Personnel'._

Six taped his fingers on the file for it to open. The file opened up a list of personnel assigned to the Project and sorted by position.

_'Maintenance' _

_'Administrators' _

_'Director' _

_'Human Resources' _

_'Basic Military' _

_'Agents'_

Six hovered over each of them for a moment, however ultimately he decided to start at the top. His main target for this mission. The Director. Six tapped his fingers on the file for the Director and allowed it to open. First in front of him was a basic file of information. Name, Age, Sex, Birthdate, Personality. . .and so on.

Six's eyes scanned over the information. He kept his eyes on his main profile, his back ground before the project. It read: _Prior to being selected for Project Freelancer, Leonard Church enlisted in the UNSC as a basic Marine. During Basic Training, Leonard Church got into a conflict with another trainee, Trainee Delaney. Shortly after the conflict, a female Trainee, comes to the aid of Leonard Church and incapacitates Trainee Delaney._

Six Stopped for a moment, taking a step forward to look closer at the information before him. That was how ONI had spotted the Director. He had appeared on their radar ever since he had joined the UNSC. A paper trail, however the Spartan doubted that he would be able to see everything. There was most likely more information that only the Director knew about. But this would be a start.

Scrolling down further Six continued to read. _'Director Church would later go on to start a relationship with said future Soldier. They would marry and have a child. The wife's name was Allison Church.' _The Spartan stopped for a moment after reading the small section of information. There was a bit more when it came to the history of the Director. It would also seem that he got a doctorate after severing the UNSC in Artificial Intelligence.

His intelligence and determination towards said degree is what got him Recruited by the Office. He was appointed the Director of Project Freelancer after he presented the idea to the Office and got it approved and funded. Yet, despite all this information. . . There was one piece of missing information that stuck to Six.

What was his motive for disobeying the UNSC? Why was he appointed head of the Project that was said to develop experimental equipment? If he had a degree in A.I would it not make more since for the Office to allow him to help with the development of more? From what the member of Noble Team understood, such AI were a major advantage in the war currently. The success rate of Spartan and AI combination teams were almost double or even triple to that of a regular Spartan.

What was he missing?

However, there was something else as well. The name Allison had a file attached to it. Six tapped the screen with his two fingers. By doing so a file appeared in front of the Director's. It was named, _'Allison Church'._

Six's eyes scanned over the file. The beginning information was basic information about her. Name, birthdate, and so on. However it was the backstory that caught the Spartan's attention.

The first paragraph was the same as The Directors. The story of how the two met in basic training only for Allison to defend Leonard and hospitalize another Trainee. Yet that is where the story started to change. She did marry Leonard and have a child. However instead of leaving the UNSC, she stayed. Serving as a Marine.

She was good, very good, even looked at by the ODST division for training. However, she denied them, many times. Her family took priority, the child was young and Leonard was depended on her strength. She was loyal to the UNSC and her job, when the Great War came. She was one of the firsts to go.

Six looked at the end of the report. The last sentence read: _'Status- K.I.A'. _

Yet there was something else on her profile. A video, taken from a camera and recovered. This video was linked to Allison's file and the Directors. Six raised his hand for a moment, reaching to play the video before he paused. He lowered his hand and rested it at his side as he stood looking at the screen. Maybe another time.

Allison Church was killed in the war. Much like many good soldiers and civilians alike. Perhaps that was why the Director got involved in ONI? To make better equipment for regular soldiers in order to decrease causalities in the war.

But then why go rouge? Why fight against the very people your wife fought for? That made little sense in the end.

Six raised his hand and closed the two files. Closing the tab of the Director's file and moving over to the Tab that read, 'Agents'. He pressed his fingers to the screen once more, selecting the tab and watching as many files appeared on his screen. The Spartan read through the names as well as status. However there seemed to be many names no listed, for some spots were blank or unfilled.

_'Agent Carolina. Status: Active'._

_'Agent Connecticut. Status: Active'._

_'Agent Florida. Status: Active'._

_'Agent Georgia. Status: M.I.A'._

_'Agent Idaho. Status: M.I.A'._

_'Agent Illoinis. Status: Active'._

_'Agent Iowa. Status: M.I.A'._

_'Agent Maine. Status: Active'._

_'Agent New York. Status: Active'._

_'Agent North Dakota. Status: Active'._

'_Agent South Dakota. Status: Active'._

_'Agent Ohio. Status: M.I.A'._

_'Agent Utah. Status: Active'._

_'Agent Washington. Status: Active'._

_'Agent Wyoming. Status: Active'._

There was a decent amount of Agents supporting this Project. Most of them specialized in one area in order to increase the overall effectiveness of the team. Which in the end was not uncommon. Noble Team had a similar dynamic, Carter was the leader, Kat was the technology expert, Jun was the marksmen, Emile was the assault, Jorge was the heavy, and himself. . .he was the assassin.

But upon looking closer, these agents weren't picked for compatibility. The Director picked them for skill. They were polarized. With each name of the Agent came a rank next to their profile. A ranking system meant to 'improve motivation to better themselves and the team' or that's what the file said.

In the end Six knew that was not the outcome that would come out of such a ranking system. The polarization of the team, was a result of this. It would form platforms that some Agents would reach and others would not. Causing miscommunication and distrust between teammates. A weakness in a strategy that looked good on paper.

In the end, they were skilled soldiers. Depending on the skillset and experience they were most likely around the lethal capability of an ODST, or perhaps higher. Gauging their ability would be difficult without seeing how they act on the battle field. Though a quick look through their equipment would help Six decide what he was working against.

From the briefing and what ONI had already told him, their goal was to create equipment Spartans could use with their armor, and make it available for anyone. Armor lock, invisibility, speed boost, anything. If this was the case and their equipment had been developed, then they could prove more deadly than one might think. Engaging them may take a bit more thinking than one would think.

There was one more thing, much like how everything in this data file had been going so far. Always one more thing.

Another Agent, the file mostly hidden away. A classified file that was scrubbed clean, mostly. _'Agent Texas'._ Six tapped on the file and opened it. Much like how it looked, it was empty. There was no name, no birthdate, not even a background to go off of. Just, a code name. Texas. There was a report however linked to the file.

Clicking on the report, it opened in a side menu of the file. It read: _'Agent Texas continues to improve and surpass all expectations. Her skill in the field outshines that of all other regular Freelancer Agents. Despite Agent Carolina being the number one Freelancer for quite sometime, Texas seems to have already gone beyond the limits that Carolina faces, thanks to her [redacted] state. With future additions when it comes to equipment in mind, we have high hopes for what we can achieve. We are sure the results are satisfactory. The conflict arising within the Team Leader will be discussed in another report. -Counselor.'_

Agent Texas seemed to be the most recent and skilled Freelancer they had. However with such a skillset, she also seems to have a certain and unique situation compared to the others. Unfortunately the data ONI provided, would not give any hints to what that condition was. The report also talked about the results of Agent Texas' performance. To who are they reporting? Maybe just documentation. . .or something more.

Six swiped the file away, closing out both Agent Texas' file and her report. He would not get anymore information out of that right now. He would have to gather more once he starts moving on the Project. He did have a start. Whatever it was about Agent Texas, Six was sure it had to be handled. But such a report did lead to another Agent.

Six scrolled to the top of the list, stopping at the team leader. _'Agent Carolina'. _The Spartan's fingers connected with the screen to open the file. This one, unlike the last, was filled with information concerning this Agent. Everything, listened from early life to current. The reason for this was in her name.

_'Name: Carolina Church'._

Six continued to read the rest of the profile.

_'Parents: Father- Leonard Church. Mother- Allison Church.' _

_'After the death of Allison Church during the Great War, Leonard Church surrounded himself within his work and work life. Disregarding most of his daughters up bringing. This could be the reason as to why Carolina was the first Agent to volunteer to join the Project in it's early stages and the reason behind her determination to be at the Number one spot. Carolina was also responsible for most of the Projects early success, as well as recruiting certain members. Agent Carolina was able to recruit Agent New York when she had tracked him down to a bar on the planet Reach. She is a powerful asset to the Project and a skilled Agent.'_

Six stopped for a moment to think about the information before him. Project Freelancer had been on Reach? It was mentioned that Carolina had gone there to convince Agent New York to join, however was there more? There was no other information concerning Reach and if the Project had been there for other reasons. But, it was something else that stuck out to Six.

Carolina on the other hand seemed to be another Agent Six would have to look out for. She was determined and her family connections made her deeply involved in the Project's success and survival. Yet, the Director seems not all that concerned when it comes to her well being. Looking at the mission logs and reports given to Agent Carolina, the Director seems to disregard her safety in terms of missions if it means overall success.

Despite his rather distant attitude towards his own daughter, she does seem to be the one with the longest mission record. Even to this day. Yet her skill and attitude seems to not only set the tone for the rest of the Freelancers, but also lead her to the team leader position. A natural leader. But how much did her Father effect her? A possible weakness.

The Spartan believed that he had seen enough concerning Agent Carolina and closed the file. There were many more to go through, but for now they would have to wait. Six had all the important information that he needed, later he would make sure he learned and read the rest of the Freelancer's files. But what he had seen would work for a start.

Swiping away the profiles concerning all the personnel, Six went to the bottom. There was a report concerning the most recent mission that involved Project Freelancer. It was true that at the moment ONI had little to no idea where the Freelancer Headquarters was. Given the fact that they had devolved a Cruiser as said HQ.

The Mother of Invention.

Six clicked on the file, seeing if he could find any hints concerning the next place Project Freelancer would visit. However when he first opened the file he was met with a newspaper article. A newspaper from the planet that the Freelancers had just visited. The title read, _'Attack on Local Company. Fire Fight in The Streets. Many Wounded.' _

Scrolling down some more would provide a little more information. It would seem that the Agents of the Project had raided a company on planet. That company was said to be a corner piece for Covenant equipment research. Due to that research, it would seem that the city had gotten plenty of funding and recourses given the attention the company brought to the planet.

No big surprises there.

Once the Great War had started, plenty of companies around the universe had done their best to be the first to access the newly discovered alien equipment. Despite everything that had to happen for that weaponry to appear mattered to them none. All they saw was a new market, and a big one at that. Private militarized companies jumped on the opportunity and paid big money to get their hands on that information.

One could imagine how the UNSC would react to a bunch of private militaries owning Covenant weapons. Noble Six had 'unofficially' put them out of business a couple of times. Ideas of said companies was nothing new to him.

However reading further, Six soon came to learn what had become of the building shortly after the assault. The Mother of Invention had used MAC rounds or, Magnetic Accelerator Canon rounds in atmosphere. Not only was that against UNSC laws, but that had also destroyed the building and surrounding area. Killing many people, including civilians and company personnel.

They had also attacked a company official, killing him and his body guards on the freeway. The police seemed to have gotten involved however the Agents had received evacuation from a Project pelican. Of course that was after the shoot out with the police.

Six stopped scrolling and thought for a moment. Allowing himself to think about what he had just read. All of this seemed to only draw more attention to the Project, not only that but it seemed to be a rather desperate and risky move in order to gain something.

But what was that something? There was no information within the report about what they had gathered from that company, they did not even list what company it was. Either way, Noble Six could see why the office wanted to handle the Director. Especially behind the curtains.

If the general public were to find out about this there would be panic. Not only would they fear the Covenant but also rouge UNSC personnel acting outside the guidelines established by the U.N. This would only lead to more rebellion. Much like how the resistance acted in the past. The only benefit was that all this took place way outside previously UNSC controlled spaced. The Covenant had pushed the UNSC out of that area long ago, there was no influence there.

But what was the motivation for al of this? What was so important that they needed to expose themselves this way? The thought of something like that is what not only interested Six but also made him worry slightly. However whatever it was, it was causing them to break laws, to hurt innocent people. Six would make sure it was taken care of as soon as possible.

Six knew what he had to do. The information he needed was not here, but something he did need was. Coordinates to the planet. He would have to visit and see if he could find any information that would lead him to Project Freelancer.

He had his first move.

The Spartan closed out all tabs and files. Looking at the time displayed on his HUD. 2245. It was getting around the time that he was authorized to leave. He was not going to waste any time beginning his mission. But there was something he needed to do first. Grabbing the data drive and unplugging it from his kiosk. Six placed it away within his armor.

After doing so he turned around and headed for the door.

"I'm here to pick up my weapons. B-312."

The man behind the armory counter looked at the Spartan for a second. He was not sure whether to be intimidated or honored to be standing in front of a soldier such as Noble Six. Though the Spartans voice, being relatively young, is what broke him out of his thoughts.

Being around the age of 22, Six had gotten that reaction from a lot of people. Though he did not think it was just him. All Spartan usually had gotten that reaction at some point or another. Though some Spartans were better at hiding their age. Six on the other hand was not. His voice was young, not very deep. It was easy to pinpoint his age to be around his early twenties. Though even the oldest of Marines knew that he had seen enough to make him eighty.

The soldier behind the counter came back and placed the weapons on the counter. "Here Sir. All of your weapons that were checked in under your name." The Spartan in black armor lowered his head to look at his weapons. One DMR, one assault rifle and one pistol. Though even to him this was more than he needed most of the time.

Six reached his hand out and placed it on the DMR. His preferred weapon of combat. It was a long range high penetrating rifle. With accuracy it was deadly, even against enemies that possessed a shield. However with the Spartans skill set, it's usual long ranged effectiveness could be manipulated into a close combat deadliness.

This was his very weapon he had when he had fought his last battle. The serial number matched the same weapon he had before that as well. This weapon, just like him, had seen the fall of Reach and the deaths of many. Though this was no such attachment, just a simple observation that brought back many memories for the Spartan.

It was not long before Six grabbed it. Testing out it's serviceability before taking it out on the field. He looked down it's scope, making sure it was dialed in correctly. He cleared the chamber and primed the weapon. It seemed to be in good working order. With a satisfying click of loading the magazine, Six placed the weapon on his back, locking it in place.

He then reached for the pistol, doing the same as he did with the DMR. Checking it to make sure it was in working order. And just as he did before, loaded it with a magazine and placed it at his side. Though of course there was one item he was missing.

"And the knife?" He asked, looking for his most deadly weapon by far. This standard combat knife had been the end to many enemies, humans and elite alike. The Spartan felt rather uncomfortable without one. It just did not feel right.

"Oh right, sorry about that Sir," Said the soldier, leaning down behind the counter and pulling out his combat knife. Stores away properly within it's sheath. Just as the other weapons and even his armor, it was scratched and worn, though it's sharpness never dulled. Six did not manage it like Emile did his own, but enough to keep it's blade.

The Spartan reached for the knife and pulled it out, looking over the edge as the blade shined and reflected the artificial lighting of the room. Six nodded his head before placing the knife on his chest piece. The same place he had it during the battle of Reach. "Thank you. Keep the Assault Rifle. I don't need it."

"Of course, Sir," The soldier grabbed the rifle and placed it somewhere behind the counter. As he stood up straight he placed his hands on the counter and watched as Noble Six walked towards the door. Before he could leave, the Soldier spoke up. "Welcome back, Noble Six."

"Good to be back."

Noble Six stopped before a single door. Not much different than any of the other doors on the ship, but what was behind it was a lot more important to the Spartan than any of the other doors on this ship.

It was his final stop for the day, his final stop before he left and began his mission. His first mission back as a Lone Wolf. But just because he was now alone did not mean he would forget those that helped him change his look on being alone. His team, his family.

The Spartan pressed his hand to the keypad, opening the door. As Six turned his head slightly to look into the room, he found what he was looking for. For better or for worse. His orange visor reflected what he was looking at, a room. Mostly dark but one single light above a table. Yet that was not what he was focused on. It was what was laying on the table.

Well, not what, but who.

Six took a step forward, enough for the door to close behind him. Yet that step he took into the room was the only step he took. He was frozen in place, his mind and thoughts swirling in his head a thousand miles per-minute. He lowered his shoulders slightly with a deep breath. His helmet dropping as he looked towards the ground.

Who was laying on the table was Emile, his former teammate and friend. Six picked his head up a little, looking over to the side to see that on another table they had placed his iconic helmet and knife. The helmet must have been to confirm identity, while the knife was for safety. Given how sharp Emile kept that thing, it would not surprise Six if it could stab someone through the sheath that held it.

The Spartan took a step forward towards the helmet. The room filled with silence besides the metal shifting underneath the weight of his Spartan armor. It did not take long to reach the small table, looking down slowly towards the items.

The helmet laid lifelessly on the table, pointed towards a random wall away from Six. Given the type of helmet, the visor reached all the way around the head, allowing the Spartan to see his own reflecting in the shining visor. Reaching his gloved hand down, Six picked it up and held it in his hands.

Turning the face of the helmet to look directly at him. Despite Emiles talent in being the first one in a gun fight and the last one out, he had a rather delicate talent of being able to draw with precision. The skull that was carved into his helmet was proof of that. It was done with the very knife that he had taken pride in. A large knife, one larger than most, used for close combat and his favorite past time.

Turning his head towards the actual body of his deceased friend, Six held onto the helmet and also the knife. Walking towards the body slowly. It was almost as if with each step, another memory of Emile played in his head. He stopped, however Emile's voice didn't.

_'That's the way we get it done!'_

_'Keep'em, he gave'ed to you. I'll honor him my own way.'_

_'I didn't bring my shovel, Commander.' _

_'It's been a honor, Sir!'_

_'Autumn won't wait forever! Let's go Six!'_

_'Six time for you to leave. . .Get the package to the man, and get your ass off this planet! I got your back!'_

_'I'm ready! How 'bout you!?'_

Six held the helmet a bit more tightly after hearing his over, his guilt still building within his chest after the death of all his teammates. Emile included. If he had just been a little bit faster, or perhaps gotten the package delivered and gone to assist Emile, then maybe he wouldn't have died. Yet something told him, even if he tried to help, he would deny it.

That's the way he was, prideful and stubborn. He was the very definition of what it meant to be proud to be a Spartan. He wanted to die fighting, Six couldn't imagine it any other way. Neither could he.

Noble Six gently placed the helmet down on top of Emile, on the center of his body. Holding his one hand on top of the helmet as he lowered his head. It was quiet, mostly because Six kept his thoughts to himself. There were many thing he could say, none of which Emile probably wanted to hear. He was never really one for being sentimental. He could hear him now.

_'Quit your cryin' and go kick some ass, aren't you a Spartan?'_

Despite thisthought in his head there was one thing Noble Six had to say. "I'm sorry." A simple two word statement, yet it held everything Six wanted to say and more. It was a sorry for a lot of things. Sorry he could not save Reach, sorry he failed, sorry he couldn't fight just a little longer. . .sorry he let you die.

With that Six raised his head, taking his hand off the helmet but feeling the added weight to his chest. Not for what he was feeling, but the weight of Noble Teams dog tags that he held within the center compartment of his armor. He made sure to keep them together and on him at all times. This was no different, they were just. . .heavier right now.

Yet there was something else that pulled at the back of Six's mind. His head turned and looked at his left hand. Holding the large knife that Emile took great pride in. He raised it up and placed it on Emile's body. But something didn't feel right. It was almost like this feeling in his gut that he was doing something wrong.

The Spartan picked it back up off of Emile and looked at the blade in his hand. Grabbing the handle he pulled the blade out and looked at it. It shined and glistened in the light. The edge being sharpened to a very deadly point. Not even a days worth of ware on this blade, but it had seen it's fair share of combat.

Six knew how Emile felt about this blade. No matter what, he knew Emile wanted it to be used. What was the point of a weapon if you couldn't fire it. That was what he always told Jorge when asked why he always went to using a knife instead of reloading.

The Spartan lowered the sheath and reached behind him. Anchoring the knifes housing on his waist line underneath his back. Holding the knife up, he looked at it one more time before sheathing it away behind him, the handling point towards his left arm. Perfect for him to draw in unison with his classic combat knife.

Six lowered both of his hands and stood there silently, looking down at Emile one last time.

"I'll take care of it." He said, making sure to let his teammate know that it was in good hands. The scene of Kat trying to use it to draw in the sand came to mind. Emile was never one to really share and always worried about that thing. It even came with a warning, _'Don't cut yourself'. _But int he end he let Kat use it, and Six had a feeling he was going to let him use it too.

Then Six stood at attention, standing stiff and professional as he brought his hand up in a salute. A sign of respect from soldier to soldier, to Spartan to Spartan. But this was more than just that. It was a thank you. Thank you for giving me the chance to fight. Six knew without Emile, he would not be here. Without any of them, he would not be alive. He would not let their deaths be in vain.

He dropped his salute after a couple seconds taking another deep breath. After this, it was on to another assignment. This time alone, without Noble Team. At least, without them physically. Six would keep them close, always on his person whenever he needed their motivation and spirit. He would not forget them, how could he? But that did not mean he did not have to say goodbye.

"Goodbye, my friend."

* * *

**Well there it is! Thank you all for reading and please review and tell me what you think! Either way I hope to see you guys in the next chapter! I hope you all have a great holiday! **

**Peace!**


	3. Charon Industries

**Welcome back everyone to another chapter! I hope everyone had a great holiday! There is not much to say other than I wanted to thank you guys for the support on the new chapter. Seems everyone loves whats happening and I promise to keep pushing these out to you guys! Either way let's get right into it!**It was not long after he had visited his former teammate Emile that Noble Six had left the ONI frigate. After he had given his speech he had allowed the morgue personnel that his friend was prepared for burial. And with that command the Spartan super soldier known as Emile and Noble Four was set into a casket. An UNSC flag placed gently on his final resting place and sent into space. Floating aimlessly and peacefully. Finally allowing the hardheaded Spartan to rest.

Noble Six had made sure to stick around along enough to see his friend off. But as soon as Emile had made his way out, Six was fast to follow his lead. The Spartan had already been given enough information to start and he already had his first target in mind.

A rather urbanized planet outside of UNSC control. There was no planet name on file but there were coordinates that could be followed. The Freelancers the previous week had planned and executed a heist for equipment. The equipment that was stolen was unknown and there were no known tracks left behind recorded on file.

Of course that was on file.

Six had decided that if there was any place to start looking he would have to start there. But there was just one problem. That problem happened to be the fact that a certain one hundred and ten story building that had been robbed the week before was destroyed by Project Freelancer. Six was rather certain this was done to cover their tracks. An effective but rather overkill way to do so.

But it was all the Spartan had to work with, so he would have to handle and deal with the hand he had been dealt. Yet, he was never good at gambling nor poker. Kat and Emile had taken that title long ago.

The city itself was a nice city. It was not much different from those that Six had seen or visited before. But it was nice to see that normal activity continued, heavy traffic, the sounds of car horns honking and the occasional sounds of civilians walking along the side walk screaming at each other.

It was normal. It was civilized. Something that Six had not witnessed since long before the fall of Reach. It was. . .relaxing in a sense. To see that humanity had continued to move on act as it always did. Ignorant to the sins and loses of war. If only everyone was so lucky.

Said Spartan however, was standing on top of a roof top. Nearby to the closed off site that was the remains of the destroyed building. It was currently around midnight, the moon high above him and the stars lining the black void that was the night sky.

The blackness of night gave him good cover to stand and scout his mission objective. The black paint of his Spartan armor adding to the effect of stealth and cover. Holding his DMR tight into his shoulder, Six tapped the side of his helmet activating his night vision.

Bringing his rifle up to his sight sight, Six looked through his scope. Bringing his support hand to the scaling nob of the scope, he zoomed in on his mission objective. Looking around the perimeter of fenced off area he could spot a couple of local law enforcement guarding the area. Most likely only there to stop any unauthorized personnel going in and getting hurt.

However, bringing his sight away from the area he looked around the surrounding blocks of the city. They were still damaged from the drop of the building, not to mention the in atmosphere MAC round that was used by the Freelancer ship. But for the most part it seemed to be contained and slowly repaired.

Lowering the rifle, Six tapped the side of his helmet once more. Deactivating his night vision and straighten his stance as he looked with his eyes down below him. It would not prove to be too difficult to get inside the off limits area. Even though this was not UNSC controlled space, the UNSC did still establish laws outside of it's control. There should be policies in place to allow him access to off limits areas given his title.

The second good part about such a situation was that since he was far enough outside UNSC influence, walking around should not prove to be too revealing. Given the Freelancers had used the basic design for the Spartan armor, it would not be uncommon for another company to do the same. A simple disguise that would prove rather effective.

All that it would involve would be a poker face and a small lie. Though, Kat had told him many times that he could use some improvement when it came to lying. For now, he would be fine, for the most part.

"Command this is Six, do you copy?" He said, turning his head to the side while he continued to stand over looking his objective.

It took a minute before command responded. A male voice came over the communication link and answered. _"We read you Six, what's your status?"_ The voice over the comm having an added effect of static, his voice being augmented and distorted being transmitted through his helmet.

"I have located my objective. Moving to investigate now."

_"Understood Noble, keep us updated. Command out."_

Six raised his head slightly, moving his eyes back to his target when the call had been cut. His eyes scanned for a moment before looking to the sky. His visor doing well to reflect the night sky. Giving his lifeless and emotionless visor some type of expression.

His hands held the weapon some what loose, more like it sat in his hands that held it from falling to the ground. Slowly he took his support hand from the weapon, allowing it to point towards the ground as he held it only from the pistol grip. Reaching for the center compartment of his armor he grabbed at the metal items stored there.

Pulling them out slowly he revealed them to be Noble Teams dog tags. Holding them from the chains as his one foot rested on top of the small ledge that was placed around the edge of the roof to prevent people from falling. His eyes scanned the sky a couple of times, remembering the times he would look to them at Reach.

It seemed that no matter where he went, they were always the same stars in the sky. So peaceful, so out of reach, so beautiful.

His eyes dropped from the night sky to the horizon. Where the buildings of the city met with the sky, almost like that pierced the clouds or stars. Yet, he got a strange feeling in his mind. Like he had seen such a sight before. Had he. . .jumped from a building in this city before? But just as fast as the feeling came it went, a simple case of Deja Vu. How strange.

Shaking his head slightly he looked down towards the tags in his hand. The names of his teammates etched into a pieces of metal that dangled and shifted with the slight breeze in the air. Closing his eyes underneath his helmet he took a deep breath. Allowing the weight of their dog tags to set.

Opening his eyes, he raised the tags up and placed them back in their housing. Reaching down shortly after to pick up his rifle and place it on his back. A slight clicking sound being the notification that it had stuck to magnet on his armor. Turning towards the rooftop stairs, Six decided to make his way towards his objective.

* * *

It did not take long to walk the couple of blocks that he needed to to reach the mission area. Signs of red or orange color hung up on the light poles and fence posts read, 'Do not enter, Authorized Personnel Only'. A rather simple sign that he had reached where he wanted to go.

It was just as he had thought when it came to walking down the street, there were no looks of civilians or questioning stares. Just people minding their own business, more concerned with the holographic device that connected to them to the social media world of news and other people.

Looking up at the entrance to the remains of the building, Six could make out two guards. Law enforcement armored with standard S.W.A.T issued Sub Machine Guns. However what was most interesting is that they wore armor similar to that of which he had witnessed In pictures of the Agents of Project Freelancer.

It looked a little more basic compared to his own, and even to that of the Agent's equipment. But the basic design was the same. full body armor with a helmet and a visor. It offered more protection but seemed to not hold the same weight and independent power supply that his own did. That was good news.

That meant that there was not untreated personnel running around with the ability that the Freelancers had or even himself. If the equipment that Freelancer created had gotten out to the public, it would create the means to more crime and destruction. With the UNSC away fighting a Great War, they would not have the resources to stop such criminals.

With his weapons put away, his DMR on his back and his pistol at his side. Noble Six took steps towards the guards, expecting to be stopped. It was their job after all. And just as he thought, they did stop him. Raising their guns to point at him, giving him a verbal command to freeze.

"Stop Giant!" The man on the right yelled, "Don't come any closer! We need to see your authorization to enter." He said, following the simple script to entry control.

But what was not on the script was the slight shocked tone that his voice held. Mostly intimidated by the size difference that was between Six and the common law enforcement. Both men before the Spartan were around average height, but with his armor on Six was easily around seven foot. Towering over the two.

"Giant? Man, really? That was rude of you to say." The one on the left whispered, trying to be quiet enough for Six not to hear. It did not work. The left guard then turned to Six who was stopped in his tracks. "Sorry about how rude that was, he is just sensitive about his height."

"I am not!" The guard on the right answered, his voice lined with a slight offended tone. His head turned away from Six and his gun lowered as he focused his attention on his partner. "I'll have you know that I am of average height!"

"I thought we went over this. We even asked the Doctor back at the station, you are below average." The left guard continued, he too distracted from the off topic conversation and paying Six no attention once so ever.

"No I'm not! The city average changed last week," The guard on the right said. His voice moving to be a bit more smug with his new evidence to support his claim. "I now reach the average height standard."

"So that would make me, what?" The guard on the left said, turning his body more towards the guard on the right. "Above average?"

"Absolutely not," The guard on the right answered shaking his head. "We are basically the same height."

"That doesn't make sense. I'm not sure that's how height averages work."

Six stood silently as he watched the conversation continue. The guard on the right would argue he was the same height as the guard on the left. While the guard on the left would argue that he was taller and the guard on the right was shorter. The Spartan merely narrowed his eyes underneath his helmet as he watched. Tilting his head slightly in confusion. Was this really happening right now?

He wondered if he should say something? Maybe stop this? He did have a mission to complete. Though in the end it might just be easier to walk away and get in there himself. The Spartan took a step away when both guards turned their head.

"No, no no, we aren't done yet." The one on the right said before turning to face Six. Gaining the attention of both guards this time. At least that was handled. "We need to see your authority to enter."

Here goes nothing. "Copy, UNSC authorization, priority zero. Policy one, dash, zero one, dash seven. Civilian and organizational involvement with a Spartan operation." Six stated smoothly and professionally. He took another step forward. "Stand down, officers."

The silence continued to set in when Six took another step forward. But it was broken when the guard on the right spoke once more. Making the Spartan turn his head to look at him and stop moving.

"Wait. . .what?" He spit out, his voice giving his helmet his confused expression as he lowered his weapon slightly. Looking to his partner for some clarification.

The guard on the left looked to his partner and shrugged his shoulders before turning back to Six. Once again it was the one on the right that spoke for both for both of them. "Spartan zero one, uh. . .one one seven what now?" he confusingly spit out once again.

Six stood silently as he watched their reactions. They were not joking, they truly had no idea about the authorization code that the Spartan had just given to them for entrance. His eyes went to the right and left, watching both of them and standing silently.

How did they not know? No matter what level of militarized department, even police departments on small planets or rural colonies. They were always informed of official UNSC polices and laws. Especially when it came to the Spartan operation polices of non-UNSC personnel getting involved. What was going on here?

Six looked to the side, his eyes landing on the two patrol cars that were parked at the edge of the entry control point of the off-limits area. Each piece of equipment that provide or made by the UNSC was always branded with the eagle insignia signifying total unity. Even his own armor dawned the bird on his chest-piece and his helmet clearly stated 'UNSC' on the side.

All police and basic civilian level defense departments were also included into this fact. All police weaponry and equipment was provided by the UNSC. After the Covenant had began glassing and attacking UNSC colonies their plan to counter was to arm police and basic defense with UNSC equipment in a weak attempt to fight of the onslaught. Yet. . .when the spartan scanned the police cars with his eyes there was no UNSC label.

"Yeah buddy listen," The guard on the left spoke, getting Six to slightly turn his head towards the guard once more. The orange visor reflecting his image as he looked into it. "Just show us your I.D. card so we can let you in."

Six looked over the guards one more time. He looked for the UNSC symbol but found nothing. There was none, nothing that connected them to the UNSC. Though should he really be surprised? He knew that he was entering UNSC uncontrolled space. But how 'uncontrolled' was it really? It find that the UNSC influence had been completely forgotten was a bit unbelievable at first.

Then again, he thought about the reason why it was uncontrolled in the first place.

At first it was, the UNSC was branching out into the universe. Making new colonies and starting new cities. New homes for people, promising new lives and jobs. But then we ran into the Covenant. The war first started on the outer edges of the new expanded UNSC space. But the longer the battle went on, the more the UNSC that was currently stretched thin was pushed back.

All this uncontrolled space, these places, these were the first colonies to be wiped out. Abandoned by the UNSC and it's protection. It is only natural someone else to step in, it would not be hard to gain support from those that felt betrayed by those that swore to protect them.

But the main question was, who controlled this space now?

The answer came in the form of another symbol. Foreign to Six's knowledge, but a hint to who controlled this space. The symbol was a circle, in the middle what looked to be the figure of a person with his hands pressed against the upper and lower inside of the circle as if he was holding it open.

This was a good start. But now Six was left in quite the situation. Held up by two guards not loyal to the UNSC. He could not just run away, or try to evade them. It would draw too much attention. But, from what he could remember, there were only six total guards at this off limits area. Two at each entry control point. Seemed like his only way in was obvious.

"Hello? Dude, are you-" The guard the right was currently in the middle fo waving his hand in front of Six's visor. As if to grab his attention. Yet as he was doing so the Spartan broke out of his own thoughts and grabbed the arm of the guard.

One of the Spartan's hands went to his wrist while the other grabbed by the shoulder. Placing his foot forward and spreading the weight of his body equally to both feet, Six turned and threw the guard over his shoulder. Throwing him into the ground with force, enough to cause the ground to crack.

"Hey!" The other guard shouted, raising his weapon only to find a fist flying towards his face. The fist collided with the mans visor and sent him flying backwards towards a fence pole. Which he quickly found his way to, the pole bending due to the speed and strength he was punched into it.

The sound made when the guard collided was a rather loud thud. The metal echoed and shook, the only sound in the area for a moment. Six stood ready, standing still and making sure no one else near by heard the take downs. His head moved to the left, then slightly to the right, ensuring no one was watching either.

He slowly stood up straight, standing there for a moment in silence. Confident that now he was clear to enter. A rather simple and brutal approach, but one he decided would work. He was not in the business of killing Law Enforcement, whether they be UNSC or not.

Taking steps forward, the sound of gravel being pressed into the ground slowly phased and shifted into the sound of brick on brick. The weight of Six's spartan armor causing the debris of the building to shift and crumble. He stopped, looking around to see where he should start looking. Of course there was really nothing that stood out to him.

All around was many piles of brick and rock. What was left of the large skyscraper that had been destroyed. In hindsight, Six really did not know what he would find here. Most of the wreckage had been already picked up or recovered, now all that was left was pieces of the building. Heavy structural materials that could not be moved with a team of men.

Yet even when the situation looked as if there was nothing to be found, there was always at least something. Curiosity killed the cat, but it also enlightened it. A little saying Kat used to say when she would dig into classified files on Reach.

Six could not help but smile slightly at the thought. How many times did Carter find out and get upset with Kat, only to be talked out of it by the female. Those two always seemed to have the same routine. Kat does something against regulation, Carter would find out, Carter would get upset, Kat would sweet talk her way out of it. A woman's charm as Emile would call it.

The thought of his teammates was drowned out by the sound of constant clattering of debris underneath his feet. But there was one smaller sound that pulled the Spartan's attention out of his mind. A slight, crunch, almost like glass. Six raised his foot from the step he took and bent over to look underneath.

Shining from the light of the moon, hidden beneath many small rocks and pebbles was a small broken piece of purple material. Six moved his foot to the side and took a knee. Grabbing the piece with two fingers and placing it in the center of his hand. It was dusty, so with a quick rub over with his gloved thumb he was able to clean it mostly.

Narrowing his eyes underneath the orange visor, the Spartan studied the piece. It had many layers, despite being a small piece of what it used to be apart of. It was reflective, shown by the light it shined into the visor from the moon. But the most interesting part were the small hexagon shapes underneath one of the layers.

Six turned it sideways, looking at it from the side. Confirming the three or four layers of extra material. He had seen this before, actually he had seen it many times. But only one source came to mind at the moment.

The Covenant.

This pieced looked to be a fragment from the outer shell of the Banshee fighter used during the war. It's protective material as well as the hexagon shapes that proved to be the Banshee's first defense in absorbing vibration and force only supported his theory. So it was true then.

Six had read in the file ONI had provided him that this company had been researching Covenant equipment. Though it did come as a surprise to the Spartan that the company had their hands on such equipment. Banshee's were usually destroyed in battle, getting your hands on one fulling intact, unless you hijacked it out of the sky, was quite difficult.

Though this was only just a small piece, it could have broken off of something much bigger. Whatever company this was, it must of had plenty of recourses to be able to recover such technology.

Did Project Freelancer raid the building for their weapons? Or perhaps Covenant vehicles? If they had pieces of Banshees, it would not be out of reach to think they had fully operational Covenant transport. But if that was their objective why destroy the entire building? Why not just gain control of it, extract the equipment. It would have been smarter that way.

Of course this is all assuming that was their objective. More questions than answers.

The only real answer Six got from this was that he would find nothing else here. It had all been recovered and stored away. Any leads had already gone cold.

Standing up fully and dropping the piece from his hand, Six raised his head. Turning around to walk towards were he came and rethink his first move. But, a light shined from his right. Turning his head he looked up to a large billboard, lighting up the block with it's artificial lighting.

It great big lettering it read, _'Charon Industries, Leading the Future with Technology.'_

Once again, the visor of the Spartan's helmet proved to be a window to his thoughts as it reflected the sign. Looking up at it Six had already came up with his next move. It looks like he would be visiting the local police department.

* * *

Obtaining the location of the police department did not prove to be an issue. Not only was the location public information, but also a quick tour through the Patrol car computer proved to be rather informing.

Since Charon Industries was directly backing the local police department, by backing meaning literally creating it's own, it would seem that they also share a similar database. Upon looking through what little information was available to him through the computer in the patrol car, Six was able to find out that they had gathered some evidence of the Freelancers and a possible next location. The location itself was locked, so he would just have to look at the source of the lead.

Walking up to the edge of the block. Six leaned over and looked at the police headquarters. It seemed to be a little more militarized than a simple police station. More like private security than actual police.

The front entrance was guarded, not heavily, but more than the previous site. Two guards on the inside, two on the outside, watched by cameras around the parameter of the building. Most of the windows had been closed off from the inside but not enough to make the building look out of place. It was elevated, that way it would prove to be more difficult for someone to climb through on the outside.

All in all, this would be rather simple.

Moving around the outside of the building Six found himself at the back entrance. A small parking lot with a dumpster, all in enclosed by fence and a moving gate. The gate seemed to be unlocked by key card authorization.

The good news to the situation however seemed that there were no guards on the outside. No one making routine checks, just a couple of cameras pointed in opposite directions. However despite the rather heavy 'looking' security it had many blind spots. With the night sky as his cover and some proper timing, be able to reach the door would be no issue at all.

Using the shadows, Six moved to the corner of the fence. Making sure to use to the brick corner pillar of the fence as an advantage. Reaching up and pulling himself over, he dropped to the ground, crouching low and moving behind a parked vehicle. Stepping over to the front of the car, he leaned his head around. Making sure there were no other watchers.

He would move down the line, car to car, before reaching the small stair case that lead up to the concrete platform and to the door. If he moved fast and low enough, he would be able to avoid the sight of the camera by sticking to the darker shadows.

It would not take him long before he had reached his target. Behind the sight of the cameras and free to stand up straight. Moving silently to the side of the door, he figured he would try knocking first. Closing his hand to a fist he hit the door a couple of times. Just before standing off to the side and waiting.

There was a couple minutes of silence, however just then there was a noise at the other side of the metal door. The handle twisted and rattled as the guard on the other side tried to open it. Once he did, he pushed the door out, Six hiding outside his line of sight.

"Dammit, Smith," The guard said as he stepped out. Looking down at a ring of keys. "You lock yourself out again? I told you to quit leaving your keys in the bathroom. Who even needs to take them off there anyway? Wait-" The guard looked up to see no one on the other side of the door. "What the-" He did not get to finish his thought as he was yanked to the side.

The Spartan hiding the shadows grabbing the guard by the shoulder and shoving his head into the ground. Effectively knocking him out cold. As Six knelt down next to a now, knocked out officer, he removed his hand from the back of the man's helmet and reached for the ring of keys. Those could prove useful, same with the identification tag that held a bar code scanner on the back.

Moving the body to look as if he had fallen asleep while sitting down, Six moved inside. Closing the door behind him quietly. Moving his head towards the ceiling there seemed to be no cameras on the inside of the building. Just the occasional one or so in a corner or long hallway. The Spartan knew it was only a matter of time before they realized they were one guy short, so he had to move quickly.

He silently walked down the hallway, looking for the room he needed. His primary objective would be the archive and records room. That would be his key to being able to find out what information Charon Industries had on Project Freelancer and their next move.

Rounding a corner, Six laid his eyes on a large metal door with a key code reader. This had to be it. Walking up to the door, the Spartan pulled out the card he had gotten from the guard earlier. Swiping it, the light above the reader turned yellow. Displaying a keyboard. It stated._ 'Password Authorization. Hint, you'll never guess it.' _

It seemed to be one of those security question types, one that allowed the user to create his own password with a hint to remember. This certain member seemed to be pretty confident in his password. Kat had told him that usually passwords on a personal scale are simple, so simple those that use them can remember them and be confident that the person trying to guess will fake themselves out and think it's too simple. So the Spartan picked the only password he knew that would accomplish both.

_'P' 'A' 'S' 'S' 'W' 'O' 'R' 'D'. _

Six lowered his hand a stood silently for a moment.

_'Password accepted,'_ The screen read as it displayed a green light. Six shook his head for a moment before reaching for the handle and opening the door. Walking into the room his eyes set on what looked to be a holographic archive.

The wall lined with different blue letters and shelves. Each continuing books on books of information. His head turned as he scanned the walls of the room. So, they really did have access to all of Charon's database. It sense, it was actually quite peaceful to look at.

The blue tint from the holograms being the only source of light within the dark room. It did well to reflect the Spartans armor as he walked through, walking past a magnitude of information and files. Yet his eyes stopped to look in front of him. A main terminal mounted to the wall, it must be the main navigator for the information.

Six would not be surprised if most of the information here was stored just to be protected. Not to be accessed per say, but just to keep space at Charon's main headquarters free and open. Almost like having server stations around a colony or even at a base. It was quite common. However the only question was, how much information could he access?

Walking up to the terminal, Six pulled the keyboard out from the slot in the wall that housed it. Looking up to the screen that was reflected on his visor he typed in the name of his object. Project Freelancer.

Many files came up, many many files. However like he had thought most of them were locked or classified to this location. He did run into a bit of luck though. There was series of files that had not been uploaded yet, meaning they were local files. Files concerning the recent attack on the city.

Opening the files, he quickly navigated through them. Most of the information there was similar if not identical to information provided to him by the Office. However there was some minor details not mentioned.

It had pictures of all the agents that had been there that day. One of which had a report concerning his injuries. It would seem that, from the description of the agent, Agent Maine had been shot multiples times in the throat and injured critically. They did not recover him and he had escaped with the rest of the Freelancers but that was important information.

It was common for UNSC frigates to be housed with a medical wing on the ship. However when a soldier was critically injured in battle, first priority was stabilizing them. Pelicans were not housed with medical equipment unless modified to do so. Which meant there had to be some sort of Freelancer outpost near by. At least on planet or a planet near by. If not, it was very possible Agent Maine died.

Scrolling down further Six had gotten all the evidence he needed to solidified his suspicion about Charon Industries. They were the company that Project Freelancer had raided that day. So they had their hands in almost everything? Weapons, technology, politics. How much influence did they have? If they controlled one city, it was possible they had many, or even planets. Without the UNSC, there really was no one to stop them. They had it all to themselves. People would want protection and for power, they seemed to give it to them.

Then Six had found what he was looking for. The object they had stolen had been giving a name. But other than that there was no information. No description, no purpose, no origin just name.

The Sarcophagus.

Yet despite the lack of information that was given to him about this object there was one other piece. It had been equipped with a tracker, one that had been taken off line after a while but they had obtained a general location. With these locations, if looking for the right things, he would be able to find the Freelancer outpost they treated Agent Maine at.

That would lead him to Project Freelancer and the Director.

Closing out the files, Six went to shut down the terminal but found his eyes lingering on a certain title. _'Operation Noble'. _His eyes froze and his mind stopped. Noble? Could it be what he thought? Could it be-

"Hey, Jared! You in here? I got us some coffee for the rest of our shift!" A foreign voice called out inside the room.

The Spartan quickly turned his head around and stood up straight. Pulling out his combat knife that was strapped to his chest. He turned to the terminal and jabbed the sharp blade into the screen of the terminal. That should slow Charon down enough for him to follow Freelancer. By the time they followed, the lead would be cold.

Six rolled off to the side, hiding behind one of the many shelves as he held his knife close to his chest. He watched as the man with two mugs of coffee walked forward.

"Hey Jared are you-" He stopped upon noticing the condition of the terminal. "Shit, someone's been in here." He said as he turned his head and looked to make a run for the door. "Hey! Lock this-" The man did not get to finish his scream for a lockdown as he run into Six switching the back of his fist into the man's face.

Knocking the two cups of coffee into his face and sending him backwards. Crashing through two shelves of data before finally stopping with his back to the wall. Yet, just as all seemed to be silent, the sound of broken glass could be heard at the front of the room.

Turning his head to the doorway, Six seen what looked to be another guard his hands open as he dropped two cups of coffee on the ground. He looked with his eyes wide at Six. Both standing and staring at each other. Not sure what to do.

The guard then turned around and took off, Six following close behind as they rushed down the hallway. At the end, a red button for an alarm. The guard reached his hand out as he was just mere feet away. Just one more step and he would reach his target. Yet just as he was about to slam the button down, a sharp point was pressed to his neck.

His eyes went to Six as the Spartan held the knife tightly to the man's neck. The guard's eyes then went to the button, then back to the visor of Six. The sixth member of Noble Team shook his head slightly. Warning the man what would happen if he tried it. Sweat rolled down over his eyes as the guard tried to think of a way out. Then went the drop of sweat it the ground after rolling off his face. He reached for the button.

Six grabbed his hand and twisted it, a crack being heard as he broke the man's hand. Then just as he fell to his knees, the knife was pressed into his neck. Silencing him from screaming. Yet again as the Spartan had thought he covered his tracks the sound of breaking glass could be heard.

Another guard with two cups of coffee stood there, next to another alarm button. Six dropped his shoulders in defeat as the guard quickly reached for the button. Six raised his knife and throw it but just as it entered the back of the man, the weight of the guard pressed down on the button. Causing the alarm to sound and a red light to flash.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

At the front of the police station two guards stood side by side at each each of the stair case leading up to the glass doors to the building. The building in the front of lined with glass a clear window into the interior of the front entrance.

The guard on the left turned his head towards his partner on the right. Not aware of the flashing red light that came from the inside of the building behind him. What was more interesting however was the yellow flashes of gun fire and the objects, and people, being thrown through the air as something or someone steamrolled through the number of guards on the inside. But, despite the chaos on the inside, the outside was quiet and peaceful. The crickets of the night singing away as the two stood in boredom.

"Hey?" The one on the right said.

"Yeah?" The one on the left answered.

"You ever wonder-" The one on the right continued.

"Don't even say it, you're an idiot."

"But-" the one of the right was cut off by a scream and the sound of breaking glass.

"AAAHH!" Screamed another guard as he flew out the front window of the building and landed between the two guards in front of the staircase with a loud thud of his weight crashing into the ground.

Both looked at each other for a moment before turning around to find the source of the issue. Both on alert as they raised their weapons ready to fire. Of course that chance never came, as Six landed on the one on the right. His fist pulled back and crashing into the face of the guard.

As the guard went limb due to being knocked out cold. The Spartan grabbed the man and spun around. Throwing the first guard into the second one. Knocking them both to the ground and unconscious.

The Spartan's attention was ripped away from the scene as sounds of screaming and yelling could be heard from inside the building. A couple, 'he went out the front!' could be heard as the sounds of glass crunching under feet follow.

Turning towards the road way, Six took off into the shadows. Hoping to lose his pursuers. This did not exactly turn out the way he wanted to and the Spartan had a feeling this would not be the last time. Though despite the rather, improvised plan he had his next move.

Freelancer outpost.

* * *

**That's it! I hope you all loved this chapter! Leave a review and I hope to see you all next time!  
**

**Peace!**


	4. First Move

**First Move**

* * *

Snow, so gentle and beautiful. Falling freely from the sky with no pattern or plan. Just falling wherever the wind would take it and landing gently on the ground. A miracle if one were to make it safely without breaking. The pine forest, once green now white and tinted. Small patches of green pines showing their face underneath the inches of snow that fell steadily.

The ground had been already covered in white powder, the air cold enough to stiffen the snow but not wet enough to freeze it. One could say it was perfect for packing snowballs, with the six or so inches already covering the forest floor it would be a prime war zone for such a kids activity.

Unfortunately there was no such chaos here. The forest held a certain quiet and stillness that was both peaceful and settling. Every once in a while a gust of wind would running through the breaks and spaces between the tree trunks. Causing the branches to shift and fight amongst each other. Throwing the snow that had been peacefully sitting atop them.

Other than the occasional gust of wind that would disturb the tranquility of the forest, there was no other disturbances. No animals running along the floor, no birds flying through the air. Given the temperature and the season of the year, they were all gone to some place warmer or sleeping till the snow melted and sun heated up the planet.

The planet itself right now was mostly a winter tundra. Other than forests there were large rocky mountains that housed frosted tips of snow. One might see a plains placed between the biomes of forests and mountain ranges, covered in snow and flat in nature. Probably the ground for large flower fields or other flora. The sky white and cold reflecting perfectly what type of condition the planet was in.

The planet itself was far from what one would call a winter wasteland. The shades of green that forced their way through the waves of white was enough to prove that life was merely sleeping underneath all the ice and snow.

Truly just a peaceful planet.

The sounds of crunching snow was the only noise that echoed through out the forest ground. The gusts of wind and shifting of branches most of the time drowned out the sounds of snow. A figure walking on the forest floor, wearing black armor that was almost the very opposite of the environment that they were in.

Within in their hands a rifle, a DMR to be exact, placed firmly in their shoulder yet held low. Ready to be raised and fired if the situation called for it. A Spartan, a hunter, an assassin, Noble Six. A soldier traveling alone through the winter forest as the flakes of snow fell upon him. His black armor having shades of white as snow stuck to him, the air being too cold for the flakes to melt upon contact.

His orange visor reflected the white environment around him clearly. Mirroring the snow flakes that fell in front of him or sometimes on the visor. The orange see through mixture of rare materials sometimes housed the thin snowflakes, only for them this time to melt due to the slight amount of electricity that ran through it in order to run the Head Up Display.

The armor itself had many layers in order to keep body heat in, however on the other side if Six were to be on a planet that was mostly hot, the armor would act as a cooler and allow massive amounts of body heat out. Thanks to the complex on board system and computer databases that the suit housed, as well as connection to his neural implants and processing chips placed at the base of his skull, it was able to read the conditions of the planet and adapt accordingly. Making sure he would not freeze to death on the spot.

At his side as always was his pistol, on his chest plate his classic combat knife, and on the back of his waist line Emile's Kukri. Though on his back a small box like storage container. Within in supplies for the mission ahead. Given the nature of the task at hand, Six had to leave his ship hidden away at the edge of the forest. A head of him a multiple day walk and despite what other may think, he did indeed need to eat.

So he packed a couple of M. , already having ate two, he had three left, one for after the mission and the others for the trip back. As a Spartan he had gone many times without eating food on a consistence basis. Though sooner or later he would need to super load to ensure his augmented body did not shut down on itself.

This planet had been only a couple planets away from the urbanized one that Project Freelancer had raided for their objective only a week ago. Now two days after Six had done his own raid to gather information from Charon Industries he was here on this planet.

As he thought, and with the information he had gathered from the police station, Six was able to cross reference both sources of information and come up with a somewhat accurate objective area. The target are suspected to house a Freelancer outpost was hidden among the base of the mountains just on the outside of this forest. Having parked his Sabre on the opposite end, the Spartan found that it would benefit him more in the long run if he approached on foot. In order to draw less attention to himself.

The only downside to this plan was that the walk itself was around three hundred kilometers from the edge of the forest to his target area. That in turn when walking at a decent pace to ensure no one is following and he was staying hidden would take him around sixty hours to complete one way. Six was secretly hoping that once he had reached the Freelancer outpost he could simply steal a mongoose or warthog and drive back. That would be must simpler.

However he had already camped out twice underneath the cold sky that continued to snow even at night. Finding some sort of covering, whether that be a thickness of trees or a rock hang over to sit and sleep under. Each night Six slept four quick hours. Just enough to give him the strength to continue and move before the sun rose. Making sure to use the daylight hours to the best of his ability.

His eyes went to the corner of his Heads Up Display. The top of his HUD reading his health and body condition, while the right was connected to his ammo supply not only in his weapons but the extra munitions he carried on his armor. Finally to the left was a radar, with it his own position and a further dot marking his objective with a waypoint and a measurement of distance.

The Spartan had about a quarter of a day worth of walking left to do. Hopefully making to the objective in time to scout out the base, rest, then proceed with his mission. His mission? To assault the outpost and gather more information on the location of the project and it's agents. However Six figured the most likely outcome of this mission would be the location of another, or perhaps the rest, of the outposts Freelancer had under it's control.

He doubted that they blatantly would state the future location of the Mother of Invention, so he would have to follow their trail one outpost at a time. It would take some time, but he had all the time in the world. Or. . .he did, but he did not want to give it away.

There was still the thought of the Great War at the back of his mind. The idea of fighting the Covenant once more, fighting against the very army that his team died to defeat. Wouldn't it make their deaths meaningless if he didn't fight for the same reason they died for?

He carried their tags with him everywhere, no matter matter the mission, no matter the attire. If he were to get a new set of armor tomorrow, one that did not hold the scars of Reach, he would bring those tags with him. Almost like he was transferring those very scars. He did so to remember their will, their courage, and their purpose. They died for the purpose of fighting for humanity, doing what was right and dying so others could live.

So he could live.

With every action he made, he held those memories at his core. Never letting go to ensure that he did what was right by them. So that they could rest easy knowing that what they died for was not for nothing, but that he would carry those purposes until he either finished them or died trying. So, there was a part of him that wanted to finish this quickly. That way he could get back to what he felt he needed to do.

If only it was that simple.

He had his orders, ones that he would follow. He was given a mission, one that he would complete. That was the core of a Spartan, to be the greatest soldier, to be the greatest weapon for the UNSC to use. To always follow orders and get the mission done. So even though there was a small part of him that wanted something else, the rest of him knew what he had to do right now.

Even though right now he was what Carter ordered him not to be. A Lone Wolf, the Grim Reaper. That was what ONI reinstated when they gave his headhunter title back, when they stamped his file with the headhunter seal once more. Six could already tell that despite his best efforts to stay away from that 'black ink' perspective. The one that he had before Noble Team, the mindset of covering yourself with black ink so that others did not have to. He was slowly becoming what he was made for.

Back during the raid on the police station he had tried to make sure that he would not harm or kill any of the officers. Despite not being UNSC, they were just soldiers and yes technically his enemies for they stood in the way of his objective, that did not mean he had to kill them to get by. Yet when the time came and the alarm rang, he reverted back to what he used to do. Kill those that witnessed, so no one could tell the story.

He was alone again, a part of him thought that ONI knew that if they sent him alone on this mission they would get their personal Grim Reaper back. But in the end that was what he was ordered to be and he had to follow orders.

That was what he was made to do.

If this is what it took to get him back in the war against the Covenant, if this is what he had to become in order to complete the mission they left to him, Noble Six had no regret in deciding that is exactly what he would do. He owed them that much, all of them. Every person on Reach that was killed, every soldier that died under his command, his team that died making sure he continued to live. He owed them everything.

But now was he not ordered to do what the Covenant had done to him? He had read all of the Freelancer files, mostly focusing on those that made it to the top fifteen or so. They had known each other for a while, training together, getting to know each other, even going as far to call each other family. Despite the competitive nature the Project had they still held each other close. Some closer than others.

For their number one, Agent Carolina, it was Agent New York. The two having met each other at a bar where it was recorded she convinced him to join the Project. Reading Agent New York's file, Noble Six got the impression that he was not much of an organized military man.

Many reports of theft, even some UNSC warrants for breaking and entering. But at the center of it all a small group of mercenaries that he had run with long before he had met that Agent at the club. A man that valued his friends, his team. So what made him leave that behind to join the Project? What made any of them.

Agent North Dakota was another strange case. From his personality profile gathered from the Office he was a caring and gentle man. Something that gave his marksmen skills a sharp and dangerous edge. He had even gone through the process with his sister to go through UNSC basic military training. He had scored the highest with his sister close behind for potential future opportunities as a marksmen and soldier.

He and his sister would have had a good career in the UNSC. Yet they left, all to join Project Freelancer. Why?

Noble Six could usually come up with a profile for those that he was targeted with assassinating. For most rebels it was a troubled past with the UNSC, feeling that because of the actions the United Nations in expanding their colonies, they were disrespected and mistreated. Others it was just growing up in the family. Each had a motive that could be clearly understood, even described as being 'bad people'.

But the Freelancers, with the exception of some, had no 'bad people' qualities. Each seemed to be people that would have had decent lives in the UNSC, perhaps even becoming ODSTs or something more high class and resourceful to help benefit the military in it's future. That is if the military was what they wanted in life.

But they joined Project Freelancer, an organization that was breaking the law, hurting innocent people. Six could not sit there and say the UNSC was perfect, even he had committed some actions that were questionable to say the least. But all was done with the idea that at the end of the day it was for the right reasons.

Perhaps that is what they thought as well? Or maybe it was something else entirely. . .

There was something deep within the Hyper Lethal Spartan, a feeling in his heart that weighed down to his stomach. A gut feeling, one that he had gotten a lot when he was in the field alone with no one to watch his back. The feeling that he was walking into a situation that did not seem to be a good one. It was a feeling he had never gotten before, especially when it came to following orders.

Doubt.

Perhaps it was his time that he spent on Reach with Noble Team. Despite being a group of great soldiers, Carter being one of the most dedicated Spartan's to the UNSC that Six had ever worked alongside of. They still questioned orders when something seemed off. They looked out for each other, that was the end goal.

The Spartan remembered the time they had spent in the skyscraper in the city, right before the glassing. Kat had hacked into some senior level communications only to find out that Noble Team had been one of the the, if not the, only Spartan strike force to run offensive counter operations against the Covenant assault. The rest had been tasked with defensive evacuation operations.

The move was bold and it was one that would certainly earn a slap on the wrist if found out about. But Carter, despite objecting first, allowed it in order to discuss it with his team and tell them the truth concerning the situation. The same went when Kat had tried to access Dr. Halsey's data drive concerning her own project she had deep within Reach's crust. It was also Kat that had come up with the slip space drive assault on the Covenant super carrier.

That curiosity had been something that border insubordination, something he had heard Halsey mention directly. But perhaps it was Six's ability to follow orders but do so outside the box thanks to his time with Noble Team that caused him to be picked by that A.I as it's courier.

However, he could be simply overthinking this. He had been warned by the Doctors that it would take some time for his mind to recover fully from the battle on Reach. The death of Noble Team weighed heavily on his mind, despite him not wanting to admit that out loud. Maybe because this was his first assignment alone again that he was starting to doubt his own abilities.

Looking down to the ground he would see that the snow that had piled up had grown. Gaining another inch or so in height as the snow flakes from the sky continued to rain steadily amongst the pines of the trees. The sun was setting slowly, the rays of light bouncing of the frozen water as it reflected it's orange glow perfectly.

He had been walking a while, even the snow that stuck to his armor had grown enough for him to have to wipe it away with his hand. Causing a small cloud of snow to be blown away by the gentle wind. His eyes went to the top left of his Heads up Display again. He was close to his objective, he should be there any second-

And it was almost on cue when he had run into the edge of the forest. Taking one more step before stopping the Spartan froze and held himself tensely. He dropped to one knee, making sure to hide himself and his darker armor shade against the thick brush that was the forest backdrop behind him.

He rose his DMR to his visor and looked through the scope mounted to the top. In front of him was the outpost he had been looking for. The back of the outpost pressed against the base of the mountain as the main tower stood tall in the middle. Two defensive look outs on each corner and a single entry point defended by two barricades and two turrets.

A small trail of smoke ran into the sky from the center of the outpost, proving that there were indeed personnel inside. But from the looks of it, it was not a major outpost. Considering the amount of equipment, warthogs and mongooses, they were not equipped to support a large scale force. Perhaps they were depending on the base being rather secluded and hidden away.

Moving his sights around the base he found himself looking to large square crates, stacked on top of each other with the help of a crane that was parked against the inner wall of the outpost. They were labeled with a simple ammunition symbol of three bullets placed together.

An ammunition supply then? It would make sense why Freelancer had to stop here after the raid on the Charon Industries Tower. Here they also had a stable location to treat Agent Maine. He doubted that any trail they left behind was still warm but he would be able to find clues. Not to mention taking out an outpost would be a benefit to not only his mission but also the UNSC as a whole.

Keeping his kneeling position, he lowered his weapon. Removing his support hand and placing two fingers to the side of his helmet. The sound of static before a voice came through his speakers.

_"This is command, we read you Noble Six. What's your status?"_

"Command this is Six," He said, his voice holding true to his monotone way of speaking he had back on planet Reach. Even now his youth shined through the words he spoke. "I have located the Project Freelancer outpost. Awaiting your command."

It was silent on for a moment before the man on the other line came through._ "Good work, Six. Your orders are to gather information. And destroy the outpost." _

Destroy the outpost. So that's how it was? His visor lowered slightly as the reflection of the horizon displayed clearly. His armor and body were still as his eyes scanned the area in front of him. Unfocused but watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky.

He was back, back to making people disappear. This was it. The Lone Wolf, the Grim Reaper was back.

He slowly raised his hand to his helmet to respond. "Copy that. . .Six out." And with that Six dropped his two fingers effectively cutting off the transmission. His hand found it's way back underneath his weapon. Supporting the DMR as he held it in a low ready position, kneeling in the snow.

His helmet moved to the left, following the parameter of the outpost to the edge of the mountain. They had picked a good area to place the outpost, the mountain side had barely edges or overhangs. Mostly flat and steep. There was no place to post himself or obverse from above.

His helmet then returned to it's original position, a small adjustment as the material of his armor shifted slightly with his head. For the most part there was no cover from him to the base. It was all open area, a perfect defensive position to watch from not only the watch tower but also the two defensive fighting positions around the entry point.

The area in front of him was like a horse shoe, the outpost being in the middle and the open area around it. All the way around the front and sides would be the forest creating the horse shoe. Then finally the mountain that was backing the outpost and providing the rear security of the base.

Six's eyes followed the edge of the forest to the right, there it would seem that the trees would thin but also connect to the mountain. The same mountain base that the outpost was backed against. If the Spartan could follow the edge of the forest to that meeting point. He could use the cover of the night and the snow to slide along the side and perfect infiltrate using that mountain.

The only defenses would be the watch tower and the guard post that was placed at the corner where the wall and mountain met. From the layout of the other guard posts, this one would be equipped with two turrets and two guards. The next guard post would be towards the front on the front right corner of the base. Moving quickly in the cover of the night he should be able to get inside quietly. Actually quietly this time.

Taking a couple more mental notes in his head, Six decided that he had his game plan for now. Raising his head to look towards the sky he looked at the position of the Sun. Seeing that night was able to set in, he would need to find some shelter to gain a few hours of sleep before assaulting the outpost towards the middle of the night.

He lowered his head and looked to his right, looking into the forest. He would follow the edge of the forest until he reached his entry point. There he would set up camp, finding shelter of some kind and rest. Given that his entry point was the point at which the forest met with the mountain he figured he would be able to find some sort of overhang or cave.

Sliding his knee back, he moved his body backwards. Making sure to conceal himself in the thick foliage of pines before standing up. Upon doing so he made his way to his feet. Yet as he stood up straight a sharp pain shot through his stomach. Reactively he winced, letting out a hiss as he took a deep breath and grabbed his stomach.

Placing too much pressure on it would cause another jump in pain. Forcing him to pull his hand away and tense. Taking yet another deep breath, Six gently placed his hand there. Checking for open bleeding, thankfully there was none. His wound must have just gotten sore given how much he had been moving on foot. The police station situation probably had not helped.

Six had been warned by the Doctors before leaving that he would need to give his wound time to heal. Jumping into action this early was not recommended but when ONI wants something done they get it done. For him that just meant speeding up his recovery.

Standing still for a moment he felt as the pain slowly dropped away. Lowering his hand as it dissipated into nothing. Taking one more deep breath, the Spartan stood up straight and supported his weapon once more. He would need to be careful during this mission that was coming up soon. If he was not, then he could risk greatly injury.

With a turn of his body he took a step forward, the sound of crushing snow being heard underneath his feet. Time to prepare.

* * *

The sky was now dark, black with night as light of the moon shined between the thickness of clouds. The stars shielded by the patches of cloud that continued to produce small snow flakes. However, compared to early today the snow fall had slowed and lighted. Now just a gentle fall of small flakes that came every once in a while.

It took Six almost the rest of the sunlight to find his camping spot for the night. A small clearing between the forest and the base of the mountains where a small over hang of rock protected the ground underneath from the weather.

The crackling of wood burning could be heard as the small light of a fire shined brightly from the center of the over hang site. Six's supply bag leaned against the rocky wall that was the mountain base. The Spartan sitting next to the fire, his back leaning against the mountain base as well as both legs laid stretched out in front of him.

A small package of MRE laid on his lap as his gloved hand laid on top of it. His orange visor pointed directly at the fire as the reflective glass like material mirrored the dancing flame. His free hand reached up and opened the storage compartment hidden within the center of his chest, opening after unlatching a few quick release latches, he reached inside and pulled out the desired items.

What came out was the pairs of dog tags the he carried with him. All stacked together as they rested in the center of his hand. His helmet would fall slightly as his eyes went to look them over once more. Not a moment went by when he was not aware of their presence among him. Constantly sitting at the back of his mind like a scar refusing to leave his memories.

His other hand would come off the MRE as it reached for a pair of tags. Grabbing at them at picking them apart from the rest. Angling it towards the light of the fire, the Spartan was able to read the letter etched into the center of the metal tag.

_'Jorge 0-52'_

This was arguably the heaviest tag to carry, despite them all being heavy enough. Mostly because Jorge had been one of his closest friends during his time in Noble Team, the first to actually warm up to the idea of another Noble Six.

Six's mind drifted to a memory of the giant. About a week after he had joined Noble Team when the team had just returned from a mission. Soon, the landscape around Noble Six was no longer the forest he had been sitting in. Instead it was Reach as his mind drifted deeper into the memory.

_"Nice work, Noble," The leading voice of their commander broke the silence of the ride back from the mission objective. Noble One speaking as he stepped out of the Falcon, followed by the rest of the team. "Rest up, we have more work in the morning." He said, reaching for his helmet to take it off and carry it underneath his arm. _

_The next to follow him off was Noble Three, after that Four, then Two and finally Five and Six. All of them reaching for some crate of equipment to be carried and placed off of the gunship. The newest addition of Noble team looked to find Kat reaching to carry two metal crates. He walked closer and offered his arms. _

_"Allow me," He said, offering his strength to help carry some of the load. Yet his gesture did not get a welcomed response. As she continued to pick the crates up and push past him. _

_"If you want to help, carry your own. Six." She said, her voice holding a certain sass and attitude that broke the regular Spartan monotone. She continued to walk forward before dropping the crates. Turning her head to look at him once more before disappearing inside the outpost. Leaving Six to stand there and watch. _

_Six lowered his arms, dropping his shoulders slightly as he took a deep breath. He knew that Noble Two had been the most stubborn to warm up to him. Jorge and Jun had both introduced themselves to be quite friendly, Jorge more than Jun. Carter was their leading commander and though he held a personal relationship with the rest of his team. He kept Six strictly professional for now. Emile did not say much, whether that was because he could care less about the new addition or simply because he did not like him, Six could not tell. Then Kat. . .well that whole interaction summed up that situation. _

_The Team worked well together, Six could tell it was because of the countless battles they had been through together. They did more than work together, they knew each other. They knew what the others were thinking, probably before they even thought it. They knew each others weaknesses and strengths and complimented and covered each of those traits well. _

_Of course throwing a new addition into the mix would cause issues and hiccups. They did not know Six, they did not know how he operated, who he was or even what he liked. He was an unknown, all they did know was what was on his file. And all they saw, was his black Ink. Other than Carter who had seen everything. _

_At first, it seemed like that this team would turn out no different than the others he tried to join. Eventually just refusing to work with a 'Lone Wolf' and forcing him to reassign once more. It was only a matter of time. _

_"Don't let it get to you." The deep and caring voice of Jorge broke Six out of his thoughts as the smaller Spartan felt Jorge place his hand on Six's shoulder. "She'll warm up to you. Just give her time." He said, walking to stand next to the Spartan as he sat down his large chain gun and removed his helmet. His eyes trailing down to look in the visor of the new addition. _

_"She doesn't seem very friendly." Six answered, meeting Jorge's gaze underneath his helmet. Adjusting his stance as he shifted weight from one foot to the other. _

_"Well," Jorge trailed off as he brought a hand up to scratch his chin, a small smile coming to his face as he let out a chuckle. "No she doesn't seem that way does she?" __Noble Five brought his gaze back down as he lowered his hand. Looking for a reply only to receive a quiet stare from Six. "She's a good person," He said with a sigh. "She's just still getting over the loss of our last Noble Six." _

_Six lowered his head to the side for a moment. He had heard about that, that Spartan profile was attached to the mission briefing he received before being assigned to this strike team. "Spartan A-293?" He asked, bringing his head up. _

_"Yeah, Thom." Jorge's voice dropped slightly, the pain in his own voice was clearly heard by Spartan B-312. It was apparent that he was a major piece in Noble Team and left a large hole that no one could fill. "He was a good soldier. Guy was a damn cowboy. Always throwing himself into situations. Kinda what got him in trouble in the end." _

_Noble Five straightened his posture and continued. "A mission to destroy a battlecruiser holding a position over a city. Thousands dead and many more to come if we didn't do something quickly. Kat came up with a plan to deliver a payload to the ship and destroy it. She was supposed to it's carrier but got hit by a stray Banshee plasma rocket. Thom then decided to pick up where she couldn't. . .He didn't make it back."_

_Noble Six remembered reading about that mission. The cruiser had been destroyed but, they kept the death of a Spartan out of the public records. Hoping to keep morale of the victory high. It seems Noble paid more than their fair share of that victory. There was no glory in battle. But there was pain._

_"She blames herself."_

_"Both Carter and Kat took responsibility for his death. O.N.I had brought heat down on Colonel Holland and he wanted answers for why this plan resulted in the death of a 'valuable resource'." Jorge's voice added the effect of quotations so his hands did not have to. "So, yeah she does. Six. . ." Jorge placed both his hands on his knees as he pushed himself onto his feet. Looking at Noble Six and resting his hand on his shoulder once more. _

_"I know that we're all happy to have a new teammate, even Kat. Most of us have been on this team for a while now. It's all we know. You'll learn that some have certain ways of showing their respect and get used to it. But Kat, she just doesn't want to go through that again. She'll come around." Jorge removed his hand and grabbed his chain gun and helmet. "Get some rest, we have another mission in the morning." He said walking towards the door. He stopped and turned his head. "Oh, and Six? Good work today." _

The memory faded with the reflection of the dog tag crashing into Six's visor. His eyes planted to the metal that shined thanks to the orange flame that continued to dance freely. The tag slowly fell into the center of his hand, before his fingers closed around it. His grip tightening slightly.

Jorge had not been wrong that night. It did not take long before the team warmed up to him, even Kat. Emile was right, Jorge was indeed always sentimental. But Six did not think that was a bad quality to have. Despite the usual stigmas around Spartans and emotions.

It was true that they were taught and trained to be cold. Resistance to temptations of emotional influence that could end up getting them and their allies killed in the battlefield. But the sense of emotional depth that Jorge had outside of the battlefield was a refreshing way to set aside the weight that battle usually had.

Jorge always made sure the mission was completed as it was every Spartan's purpose. But he always made sure his teammates were taken care of and safe. He carried them, not only with his strength but also his heart. A good man, one that deserved better. They all did.

As the dog tags continued to be gripped in his hand, Six's head laid back. His helmet resting against the mountain base as he was forced to look up at the cloudy night sky. As he sat there he could feel the exhaustion finally setting in. The toll of walking all that distance had finally caught up with him.

Though his grip remained strong on Noble Team's dog tags, his focus to stay awake did not. He knew that he had to grab a few hours of sleep before his mission. He would make sure he woke up just before the sun would rise. That would give him enough sleep and time to complete it effectively.

Just before he could run through the plan in his mind one more time, it went blank. The blackness of his eyes closing cutting any thoughts in his mind off completely. With his mind drifting, the fire also faded. Leaving him in complete darkness.

* * *

The sound of war echoed through out the night. Gun shots, explosions, screams, all of them came crashing down on the sleeping Spartan would have fallen into a quick slumber. Only two hours had passed since he had drifted away and he was met no long after with noises of war.

As time would past, second by second, the noises would only increase. More and more explosions getting closer and closer. People calling out for help, calling for his help.

_'Tell'em to make it count.'_

_'First glassing?'_

_'You're on your own Noble.'_

_'I'm ready, how 'bout you?!'_

And with one final large explosion that felt like it was right on top of him, the Spartan leaped out of his sleep. Pulling his pistol and pointing it forward, ready to fire.

Yet, as the gun held ready, the noises were no more. There was no firefight, no explosion or casualties just the silence of the forest. The soft embers that remained from the fire being denied any extra wood to burn, danced gently as a soft breeze ran through.

The snow had continued, holding steady to the pace it had been falling before he had fallen asleep. Six's eyes darted from one side to the other, making sure that the world before him was what it truly looked to be. And once he had confirmed that there was nothing there, he dropped his aim. Letting a large exhale of air out before looking to his hand that clenched his teammates tags so violently.

Six opened his hand shakily before closing it just enough to hold a grip. Coming up and putting them away within his armor. This feeling of unease that was deep within his chest, the sounds of Reach. What was going on? He figured he was just simply dealing with the aftermath still.

He pushed the thoughts off as nothing major, thoughts that he had brought up due to the amount of silence and free time he had to spend within his own head. It would go away, sooner or later.

It had to.

Placing the pistol to his side, Six stood up. Kicking some dirt over the embers to hide their light and any sign that he had been here. Reaching over and picking up his supply bag, he attached it to his back. Also grabbing his DMR that had been leaning next to the bag on the mountain base.

He held his DMR in a low but ready position, checking himself and his supplies over once more before looking towards his objective. His infiltration point was not too far from here. He could make the walk within the next ten or so minutes. It was a gamble to set up camp so close but in the end it paid off.

Taking a step forward, Six left any thoughts of what just happened behind at the campsite. He would be able to deal with any of that after this mission had been completed. Not just this current mission, but the whole mission to take care of Project Freelancer. That is when he could have a break, get over this and finally get back to the Great War.

The Spartan stopped, meeting his waypoint that he had set within his Heads Up Display. Raising his DMR to his visor he looked through to see if there had been any changes to the lay out or security of the base. There had not been.

Each guard team had continued to watch over the same spots, each changing position within the same period of time as before. The watch tower maintained it's steady but constant sweeping of the area with a spot light. Everything was going according to his plan.

With the cover of the night and the thick forest Six was able to obverse the guard post on top of the wall. This one tasked with watching the back right corner of the base away from the only entry point to the outpost. The Spartan's eyes would travel to the mountain, seeing a couple of sharp edges that jumped out from the smooth inclined surface.

Six's plan was to climb the mountain to about equal height of the outpost wall. Find a ledge to stand on and jump the distance into the guard post. Doing so at the right time would allow him to neutralize the guards watching and make his way inside.

His first and only stop would be the main headquarters of the base. Access their database would allow Six the opportunity search through their files for one of two things. One was either a list of all their supply routes. Given this outpost mostly was used for ammunition transport to other outpost, if he was able to access such a log, he would know most if not all of Freelancer's outposts.

The second was probably more of a dream than a realistic goal. If he had found something relating to where the Director was going next, he would be able to track them down and finish this. But he knew the Director was a paranoid man, simply allowing his location to be tracked so easily was something he doubted he would let happen. So Six would hope for the first result.

The wall was about twenty feet in height, so he would have to scale the mountain a little higher than that if he wanted to be successful in his plan. Turning his head to face the mountain side, he placed his DMR on his back. Hearing the click of the magnets attaching to the rifle's base ensuring that it would stay.

The Spartan reached one hand up, taking a grip of one of the ledges and placing his foot at the base. Pulling himself up, he reached for another ledge and repeated the process of climbing the mountain. He continued, a couple of times slipping due to the wet and icy snow but never slipping enough to fall back to the ground.

His eyes went to a rather large edge, one that might have been considered more of an overhang as it was large enough to support his weight entirely. Making sure to reach for it with both hands, the Spartan began to pull himself up to it, throwing one leg up and rolling over to his side to completely lift himself onto the ledge.

Six went to stand up however the light of the watch tower scanned just above his head, prompting him to drop to his stomach. His head raised slightly to get a better look of his position, he could see the guard post just in front of him. Of course between him and the post was probably fifteen or so feet. He should, should, be able to clear that and grab onto the guard post.

But he could also see the two guards standing by and keeping a look out. Well 'keeping a look out'. They both seemed to be talking, their weapons held lazily as they expected that this would be just another routine shift for guard duty.

Six watched as the light came closer once more, waiting for it to pass so he could make his move. Once it did, he dropped his head and watched as it ran by. So, now that he was in the clear the Spartan jumped up and began to run to the edge of the ledge. Leaping into the air and reaching his hand for the edge of the guard post.

His hand caught the rail that kept them from falling as his body slammed against the metal. Creating a rather large thud. Making sure to hold his grip tight, Six reached for his second hand to grab the ledge only to hear the voices of the guards.

"What the shit? Did you hear that?" One said making his way towards the edge.

"Probably just an animal or something."

"An animal? Are you fucking kidding me? Whatever dude, just stand there lazy ass. I'll look."

The Spartan could see the guard's rifle, reaching his hand up he grabbed it and yanked it over. The guard letting it go out of surprise and letting out a surprised yelp. Yet before he could say anything else, a knife was placed into his chest as he fell backwards into the guard post.

The other guard would turn to look at his friend now fallen over dead. "What the fuck?!" He would say to himself raising his weapon to look around, seeing nothing. Then he would go limp as arms would wrap around his neck and twist it violently, snapping his neck and killing him.

The Spartan standing within the guard post walked over to the guard he had stabbed with his knife and pulled it out. Keeping it in his hand just case he needed to use it another time. He wanted to go quiet with this mission so firing off his guns would do him no good.

He walked over to the edge of the post that over looked the inside of the base. It did not take long for Six to find his objective, a small building towards the base of the watch tower. Reaching into the bottom of his supply bag on his back, the Spartan pulled out a small round device. Tapping the top of it, the round object came to life with a beep and Six placed it within the guard post.

After he had set the first of many explosives, Six trailed down the ladder of the post. Hopping off the ladder after getting about half way, his feet hitting with a thud. Turning his head to the right, deeper into the outpost he looked towards the building. Staying low and crouched he began to move. Ducking behind others builds when either a set of guards of the light would come across his path.

However he did stop just before he had made it to make a little detour. The fueling area used to refuel their vehicles. Pulling out another explosive he placed one on the fuel tank. Six decided to move on into the building.

Sticking to the wall and moving quickly before coming to a room much like the one in the police station. Two guards stood at the terminal, having their backs to the Spartan. With the door opening with a hiss, the guards turned to see who had joined them.

"Huh? Someone in here?"

"No dude you're just hearing things again."

"Nah, man. I heard the door."

"Then go look fuckbox, I'll be here doing nothing because nothing ever happens."

"Fuck you man. I will go look and when it is something. I hope you get killed first." The guard said walking towards the door. Yet come to no one surprise when he opened it there was no one there. Yet when he turned around, the guard he had been standing with was dead, laying on the ground. "Oh shit! I didn't mean for it to actually happen!" But there was no time to say anything else as a knife was plunged into his neck killing him instantly.

Six stood up and grabbed the knife from the guard. Walking over to the terminal he began to access it. No password this time, well that made his job easier. But he was hoping to try 'password' or maybe 'freelancerrules' but guess his fun would have to wait.

Shifting through the files Six came to exactly what he was hoping to find. A shipping schedule to multiple Freelancer outposts all over the galaxy. Making sure to link his HUD to the database, Six downloaded the files. Storing them away to be looked through later. Closing out the terminal he decide the had found all the needed, the more time he spent here the more likely it was he was going to get caught.

If he got caught and the Director was alerted, the chances of Six finding the Director in a decent amount of time would go down significantly. But seeing how paranoid the Director was to begin with, he doubted he would find him in a timely manner anyway. Not to mention he would find out either way given his mission objective was the destruction of this base.

Pulling out another explosive Six placed it within the room before turning and going to make his way outside. Quickly moving through the halls before going out the door and keeping his back against the outer walls. He had to make his way to a warthog or something, that way he could make his escape quickly.

His eyes would land on his escape vehicle, sitting next to the refueling station he had already rigged to explode. Making his way over to it, the Spartan jumped inside. Turning the engine over with a loud roar as the headlights came on.

Slamming his foot into the ground Six spun the tires around in the snow before the Warthog picked up traction and shot forward. He swerved around guards, maybe hitting a few, before making his approach towards the front entry point. The guards turned towards him and motioned for the front entrance to be blocked off.

Reaching into his bag, Six pulled out his last explosive as he went to fly past one of the guards at the front. Sticking his hand out and placing the explosive to the guards helmet before slamming through the barricades.

"AAAHH! What the hell is this thing!" The guard screamed as Six drove through.

The vehicle jumped into the air slightly after crashing through the barriers. Moving the steering wheel to regain control, Six continued out into the open. In his left hand a detonator to the explosive he had placed. With his thumb coming down on top of the button, not a few moments later he outpost would erupt in flames.

Keeping his head and attention forward as the flames and explosions raged on behind him, Six threw the detonator to the side. Reaching up to his helmet with his free hand and placing two fingers to the side of it.

"Command, this is Six. Objective complete."

* * *

Thank you for reading! Review! Peace!

Peace!


	5. First Encounter

**Chapter Four: First Encounter**

* * *

"Are they ready?" The voice of an older man, his tone matured and laced with a southern accent. Yet despite the simple question, his tone also held a certain authority and impatience. Also as if the question he had asked was more of a demand, a demand of a man tired of waiting.

The surrounding environment was that of a control room, to be more specific the control room of an UNSC frigate currently flying through the blackness of space. But this was no UNSC affiliated ship, this was something else. A military organization just with the label, an eagle to symbol unity and strength, the emblem of the UNSC. However, it was just that, a label.

This was Project Freelancer. Claimed to be independent of UNSC control and order. Freelancer had it's own mission, one that was said to save humanity. Much like how many of the UNSC projects that were funded secretly and hidden away from public eye carried the same motto. To aid in the fight of the Great War, no matter the cost.

And at any cost it would be. For Freelancer has already suffered many injuries and personnel death for the sake of the Project. Equipment failures, high risk missions, all resulting in either personnel injury or death. But it was all in the name of the greater good, at least, the greater good for the Project. Or so that was how it was seen in the eyes of the Director.

He stood, his stance straight and stiff with his hands behind his back as he spoke to the armored soldier that stood at attention behind him. His eyes forward, hidden behind his tinted eye glasses that only added to the effect of being unable to read any emotion. He was the head of the Project and the genius behind the creation of the Alpha Artificial Intelligence.

He was, Director Leonard Church.

Standing next to him the Counselor. A reliable and valuable asset to the Project and it's Agents mental health. His name, Aiden Price. Tasked with making sure the compatibility of the Agents stayed at maximum efficiency while also analyzing their personalities for possible A.I pairings. Of course that last part that was a hidden add on to his job title.

"Yes Sir! All available Agents are present and prepared for the briefing." This time the voice of a female. Her voice held a certain youth to it, proving that she was perhaps in her twenties. Yet the way she held herself was all business, any ideas of being a young adult pushed out and replaced with one idea and one idea only. Being the best.

Her name, was Agent Carolina. The current number one Agent of Project Freelancer. Shown by her name displayed proudly at the top of the leaderboard, found in every room that was on the ship known as the Mother of Invention.

Even though it was her name that was on top, there was much more that laid underneath. A new Agent had made _her _way into the Project. Quickly proving her skills by not only taking down three Agents at once, one of them being the current number two, but also completing missions more effectively than Agent Carolina. That Agent was currently not on the leaderboard, but it was well known around the ship at this point.

Agent Texas, soon to be number one. Or so the rumors that had made their way around the ship were saying. Rumors that Agent Carolina tried to ignore by spending most of her nights without sleep, training and pushing herself to beat Agent Texas should the next opportunity arise. And arise it would.

"Excellent. You may proceed with the briefing."

"Yes Sir." Agent Carolina replied as she nodded her head. The Agent followed loosely behind her by the Director would walk across what looked to be a metal bridge, leading them to a war room with the other Agents.

As Agent Carolina entered, the Director behind her by keeping his position towards the back merely to obverse and watch, she would approach the center of the room. Walking up to a table as the top of it would be holographic, able to project information as need be. It was used to brief the team before the heist for the Sarcophagus and it would be used here as well.

Standing around the table in no particular order were many Agents, each equipped with their own colorful armor. They included, Agent New York, Agent Washington, Agents North and South Dakota, Agent Connecticut, Agent Wyoming, and Agent Florida. And of course Agent Carolina would leaned over the table, resting both her hands on the edge as she tapped at the buttons. Changing the holographic display.

"Listen up people, this is important." She said, cutting any side conversations off as they all turned to look at her. As she tapped a few more buttons, she stood up straight and looked at Agent Washington. "Wash, Maine is still in recovery so I'll need you to take some notes and make sure he gets this information as soon as possible."

"Got it boss,"

"What about the rising star, Texas? If this is so important don't you think she should be here too?" The voice of Agent Connecticut cut in as she stood to the side. Her voice holding a certain tone of sass as she stood with her arms crossed.

"Agent Texas has no need to be briefed, I have already given her this information." The Director cut in, his tone heavy with authority has the tension in the room rose.

"Team player. . ."

"Enough C.T, let's get back on track." Agent Carolina cut in, bringing the tension back down and all attention back to her. She tapped on the table to bring up a list of reports. All being displayed in the center of the holographic table for the Agents to see. Most of them titled with 'Outpost _ [Status: Destroyed]'. "Team, we have a new enemy and they've been busy."

The sudden display of all sorts of mission reports, base status', and much more were enough to get the full attention of all the Agents in the room. It was almost like the entire room had gone silent, whether that was because they could not believe what they were looking at, or they were simply rereading the situation was up for debate. But surely everyone had the same thought in mind.

Who was the new threat?

Of course it was the tan Freelancer with his laid back attitude and tendency to make light of any situation that grounded the team. A necessary quality for a team member to have and one that Carolina and company appreciated.

Though at first it was the whistle underneath his helmet that caught the attention of everyone, followed by his comment. ". . .You weren't kidding, someone has way too much time on their hands."

The next person to speak was Agent Washington, the rookie of the team that had made his way up the leaderboard rather quickly. He was a jack of all trades per say, not particularly skilled in one field over the other, but also skilled in all of them at the same time. It made him a great asset to the team, a soldier with plenty of potential.

Though his lack of experience was shining bright through his voice as it raised to a higher pitch. A hint of panic laced between the words of his sentence. "You're telling me these bases have all been destroyed! All of them?!"

Carolina stood up straight looking between her teammates. She expected a reaction like this. To be fair she had a reaction like this of her own. When she found who that this was happening to the Project and it's outposts she too was surprised someone even had the guts to do something like this. Not to mention the skill alone. "That's right Wash. This is what we are up against next."

"Oh great," Next it was Agent South Dakota. Her rather sarcastic and bashful tone of voice was surely seen as an aggressive quality. But here strength that never seemed to waver mixed with her quick temper, much like the other women on the ship, seemed to be the very reason she had found her way in the top ten more than once. "We have the resistance crawling up our asses and now we have these shitheads. More fun for us."

C.T scoffed a little bit at her rather sudden outburst, however it was North that cut in next. "Now hold on South, we don't know who it was yet."

"It wasn't the resistance," Carolina cut in, tapping another couple of screens to reveal some security footage. "We don't have much on however this was. . .they are good, really good, at covering their tracks. Seems like they've done this a time or two before."

"Do we have any ideas?" C.T was the next to speak up, suddenly her full attention being placed on the matter as she leaned forward. It was rather unusual to see C.T so invested in a briefing before that did not have anything to do with their current mission or objectives concerning the Resistance. "Symbols, attack strategy, equipment, anything that could tie them to_ something_?"

"No, nothing like that. Most of the footage we have here is brief. A couple seconds at most. Just enough to confirm one thing." Carolina brought up a single window of security footage, one picked out of many as it expanded to take up the whole screen.

"And what's that?" C.T commented.

"There is no _them_ as in multiple, but _them_ as in one person."

The footage would play, a brief five or so second video of a single armored person. Walking with his back to the camera as they held a weapon within their hands. They watched as that person lowered the weapon, holding it with one hand at the pistol grip and bringing up his free support hand. Within his hand, an object, too small to make out. However upon the action of him pressing his thumb to the top of the object one could put together it was a detonator. Upon pressing the button, the area behind him out of view would erupt in a bright light before causing the camera to go black.

The reaction in the room said it all. None of them in the room actually believed that this had been true. There was no way one person had taken out this many outposts. There was no way there was someone this skilled! Even Agent Texas, who had proven to be able to take out groups of people with her own two hands would probably have trouble with a task like this. But the thought that was shared still remained the same.

Who was the threat?

"Carolina, I hate to be that guy. . .but how sure can we be that all this was this one person each time?" York spoke up, his tone still light though holding a bit more seriousness to it. Speaking with his hands as he pointed to the screen. "I mean, this is a little hard to believe."

"We're sure. Though we haven't been able to catch them each time, when we have the profiles match. There's no other person it could be. Resistance descriptions don't match the armor that they're wearing. It's a new party." Carolina commented tapping on the briefing table to bring up a list of outposts.

"Why are they doing this? Did they take anything?" North asked, turning his attention over to Carolina.

"The strange part is, no they haven't." Carolina brought up a list of outpost equipment. Showing that indeed all equipment, at least the equipment that was not destroyed after the explosions, had been accounted for. "As you can see, all of our equipment has been accounted for. Weapons, armor, ammunition. They aren't doing this for our supplies but for something else."

"Any idea what that something else is?" Wash added, lowering his little notebook which he was using to take notes.

"No, we have no idea. But we do have an idea on what outpost will be targeted next." Carolina changed the screen once more to the outpost at which Agent Maine had been treated after the heist. "If you remember, this was the outpost Maine was taken to after the mission to obtain the Sarcophagus. Not long after, it was attacked and destroyed. The main objective of that outpost was to deliver ammunition to other outposts Project Freelancer had established. The shipping list that was in that database. . ." The hologram then brought up said list alongside a list of all outposts that had already been destroyed. "You can see that they've been following a pattern, very strictly too. If we simply look we can find-"

"His next target." Washington finished.

"Exactly,"

"Then what do you suppose we do next, Boss?"

"Simple. We meet our new friend at the next target." Carolina commented, closing out the windows on the table. This time bringing up a three dimensional model of the next outpost. "The Director has already picked a team for this mission. It'll include, myself, Wash, the twins, and York. The plan is simple. Myself, Wash, and York will be stationed inside the outpost running primary counter operations while North and South, you two will be running secondary support. Positioned outside the walls in the nearby mountain ranges." She finished, pointing at the specific objective points that were important to the plan.

"Why the hell do I have to be away from the fight?! Put Wash over there! We all know he's the worst fighter here!" South commented, her anger starting to rise as she leaned forward over the table. Glaring at Carolina.

"Hey!"

"You and North are a better team than Wash and North. We need you two together, while North is watching over the area he needs you to watch over him. We don't know how skilled our enemy is and if he gets behind you and North, there goes our cover and we are fighting blind." Carolina stated, her own voice remaining calm and steady. Though her stance said otherwise.

"South it'll be alright, you'll get your chance. Just relax." North commented, lending a hand on his sister's shoulder. She shrugged it off before looking away. "Also go easy on Wash, he's improved quite a bit since he got here."

"Whatever."

"Now that we are all on the same page." Carolina tapped a final button on the table for all the information to disappear completely. She stood up straight as she looked between all of her teammates. "York, Wash, North and South, you all have six hours to prepare for deployment. We move on this mission tonight. The more time we wait, the higher the chance this guy gets away."

They all nodded their head. Speaking in unison as they agreed. "Got it,"

"Good, that's all I have for you. You're all dismissed."

* * *

"North, South, you in position?" Carolina's voice came through within the helmet speakers as she held her hand to her helmet.

Just as she had briefed, Carolina, Wash, York, North and South had left six hours following the briefing. The first three had taken defensive positions at the front of the outpost while North and South had set up a position to over look the whole base. The plan was rather simple, they wanted to either capture of kill the enemy and stop him from destroying any more outposts.

According to the Director, this unknown enemy had already taken out over forty percent of all their available resources by destroying the outposts he did. The fact that he was straight up destroying them rather than actually stealing anything meant they would not be able to steal it back, effectively setting them back in progression of the Project's development.

Of course though Carolina had briefed this mission as a simple counter operation against an enemy of unknown but presumed high skill, it was something else to her entirely. If she was able to take down this enemy, it would surely boost her score on the board and land her in good favor with the Director. If she was able to capitalize on that good favor, her number one spot would be soon within her grasp.

So she was very much on edge, though she did her best to hide it.

To most she was able to do so, by most meaning everyone but York. Given how close the tan freelancer was to Carolina he could pick up on her small mannerisms that she did when she was stressed. Pacing, tapping of her fingers, constant questions. So he did his part by making sure to crack as many jokes as he could. Though most of the time it ended in him getting a dirty look but a distracted and thus more relaxed Carolina.

"Carolina, we read you loud and clear and we are in position. We got your back." North's voice came over the communication system. His voice as light and caring as it was in person, but it was also as if Carolina could hear the scoff from South in the background.

"Copy that, every fifteen minutes make sure to check in with Wash. That way we know we still have our eyes."

"Understood, talk to you in fifteen. North out."

Carolina lowered her hand and walked towards the front of the outpost. She had ordered the guards to focus more on the other entrances and possible breach points, leaving the front and most exposed to her and her team. She was confident that with her team they would be able to handle this. It just had to go smoothly.

She had reviewed the footage, what little footage they had of their enemy. He was good, really good, if he controlled the battlefield their fight would already be over. That is why they had North. If he was able to watch and communicate on where their attacker was coming from, they would be able to prepare and stop possible destruction of the outpost. If they lost him, they would be sitting ducks. Which is why they had South to watch his back.

Now all they had to do was wait, and by the tapping of her finger on the plasma rifles strapped to her thighs, she hated waiting. She had already paced back and forth from the entrance of the outpost to where York and Wash were currently standing. York with his shotgun in his hand and Wash with his battle rifle.

"She seems pretty stressed." Washington said, leaning his head over to York as he spoke more quietly. Looking over to their leader walk back and forth and continuously check in with other guard teams.

"What gave you that idea, Wash?"

"Well, I mean look-"

"That was a joke, of course she's stressed! What did you expect?" York cut him off, his obvious sarcastic tone going right over the newer member's head. His response a slightly whispering hiss as he tried to keep his tone down and lowered.

"Oh. . .right."

"I mean some random guy starts blowing up Freelancer outposts, out of nowhere. I'm sure the Director has been on her ass about handling this." York comments, looking over to her. His tone gave away his slightly concerned look he was giving their leader underneath his helmet.

"Yeah, yeah I know. But, did you see those reports? Who the hell can do that?! I mean, just over a dozen outposts in a couple weeks! That's not human."

"Yeah well, fighting some alien robot thing that's hellbent on blowing shit up would be the most normal thing we've done in a while." York kept his helmet pointed towards Carolina. "I just hope this works,"

"You're worried. About Carolina."

York turned his head back to Washington. "Of course, man. I mean, you know how she's been since Texas. She's more focused on that board than ever. I don't think she's barely gotten a good nights sleep since Texas showed up."

"Which means you haven't either."

"What are you going on about, Wash?"

Wash scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. Throwing a hand into York's chest piece. "Oh come on, don't think I haven't noticed. North tells me things you know." York stayed quiet as he waited for Wash to continue. "I know you stay up and watch over her, only question is, does she?"

"Of course not!" He then winced as he raised his voice, looking to Carolina to see if she noticed. She didn't. He sighed then turned back to Washington making sure to whisper again. "She would kick my ass if she found out about that."

"Then why do it?"

"Because someone has to." York shook his head and took a step back, chuckling as he looked at how clueless Wash was being. He looked at the ground for a moment before kicking some grass up. "North tells you things, huh? Like the time on Halloween he told you Maine wanted to be a cat?"

Washington shot a glare that could be seen through his visor at York. Receiving a laugh from the tan Freelancer. "That was not funny."

"It was very funny."

"I almost died from that!" Washington said, taking a step forward. "You told me he wanted help! So I spent all night drawing a cat face on his helmet! The worst part was, he was asleep! You told me he was just being still!"

After the story, York could not help but laugh a little. Looking towards the sky as he tried to contain his laughter. "That guy really is a heavy sleeper, huh? I remember when he woke up, he was looking around for you and you tried to hide but forgot the marker in your hand. Haha! He chased around the ship for an hour! A whole hour! Finally me and North had to calm him down." York spit out, laughing every once in a while in between words.

"You guys are huge dickheads. Like the biggest. I had to buy him a new helmet."

"Oh quit being a baby, Wash. We helped you buy it."

"After Maine threatened to rip you both in half!"

"That's besides the point."

"That's the whole point!"

"Will you two shut the hell up for one second! We have a mission!" Carolina's voice cut straight there their banter as she looked at both of them with a glare. A glare scary enough to basically make Wash hide behind York as they wished they could hide within their armor. Despite her having a helmet on, that was a look neither of them wanted to be on the receiving end of again.

"Sorry."

"Sorry."

"Wash, has North checked in with you yet?" Carolina asked, her voice dropping slightly but still holding it's authority. She walked towards them, keeping her hands resting anxiously on her weapons.

"Huh? Oh. . ." Washington went quiet for a moment as he looked at the timer displayed in his visor. "North wasn't supposed to until. . ."

"Until _what_ Wash? What is the time?" Carolina asked, this time adding a bit more sharpness to her voice.

"Until, uh. . .five minutes ago. . ." His voice trailed off for a moment trying to hide his mistake as he lowered his tone. Almost like a child being caught in the act of doing something wrong.

"What?!"

"It's not my fault! York was distracting me!" Washing blurted out as he pointed at York.

The Freelancer instantly threw his hands up in defense and shook his head as Carolina shifted her glare to York. "What the hell, man!" He questioned as in return all Wash gave him was a simple shrug of his shoulders.

The banter of the three was interrupted by an eruption of fire and light from behind them. The rather large watch tower that was used as the central security building in all Freelancer outposts was currently combusting, shooting flames from all windows and on the verge of collapse.

Turning to face the explosion, the three Freelancers stood still as a multitude of emotions ran through their bodies. The helmets hid their faces but the visors perfectly reflected the fiery explosion to give hints to what they were thinking. Though each had a different outlook on the situation, all of them shared a base emotion. A emotion of fear.

And, just as their plan, the tower fell to the ground. A large crash of metal being echoed through out the outpost as debris was thrown into the air, clouding their line of sight towards the fallen tower. Gun shots could be heard through the smoke followed by small glimpses of yellow flashes.

Carolina was the first to break out of her trance. Anger flooding her body as she clinched her fist, screaming at her body to move. Forcing her legs to break the chains of fear that held her down. How was it possible that someone had already entered the base, destroyed all of their defenses and left them wide open with no cover in less than thirty minutes.

They had been played, right into the middle of a trap. Walked right into it without a second thought. Like idiots! Played like fucking idiots! Carolina was determined to fix this mission, her body fueled with adrenaline and frustration. No matter what she was going to complete this mission.

"York! Wash!" She screamed, gaining a snap of their heads towards her direction. Good, they were alert now. She could work with this. She could work with this. "Hurry! We have to find a defensive position! With all this smoke we can't see! We're sitting ducks!"

"Right! Come on Wash, let's move!" York screamed, pulling his shotgun up to his shoulder as he awaited a nod from the black and yellow Agent at his side. However, in response he got a hesitant nod, followed by another more confident nod as he also readied his weapon.

"Okay I'm with you!"

Then, from the midst of the smoke came the sound of a DMR rifle. Firing a handful of shots, the whistling and hissing of the rounds ringing loudly in Carolina's ears as they flew past her. She drew her plasma rifles, allowing a volley of rounds to fly back into the smoke. Her eyes jumped to her left as she watched York and Wash retreat to some cover, she just needed them to get to safety then she can worry about their attacker.

However, when the bullets were no longer flying past her but the sounds of shots still rang through the air. Her attention went to her teammates. The yellow flashes jumping into the ground behind their feet as they ran.

"Watch out!" She yelled, gaining the attention of York who pushed Wash forward. Causing the Freelancer to fall face first into the ground, however behind a set of cover. In return, York was rewarded with a bullet in right arm. Causing him to roll and also fall behind the cover.

"Gah! Shit!" He cried out, kicking his legs into the ground to move his back against the wall of concrete that was there for their cover.

Carolina cursed in her head but had no time to speak on it as the attention of bullets was thrown back at her. She jumped to the right, rolling behind a pile of bags used to create a barrier to defend the entrance. Guess they could be used both ways.

"York!" She called out, lowering her head as a set of bullets hit the barriers behind her. "Wash! Is he okay!"

"He'll be fine! Just a clean shot right through the arm. He got lucky. . .again."

Carolina nodded her head and went to look over the barrier only to be met with a volley of shots. Each one planting themselves into the bags that protected her. Throwing dust into her visor. She quickly ducked her head, "Dammit! I'm pinned! Wash do you have eyes!?"

Before Washington could answer, the sound of gunfire went quiet. No more bullets, as the battlefield went still. Carolina decided to take the risk and quickly shoot her head up, only to find that there was no bullets being sent her way.

She turned to look at York and Wash, who leaned desperately against the wall to hide from danger. However, the curiosity of the situation got the better of Washington who was closer to the edge as he too looked around the corner.

There was nothing, the smoke from the tower collapsing had mostly cleared itself. Allowing visibility of the area before them. There was no one, well no walking person. Bodies of the Freelancer personnel laid dead on the ground. But the attacker was no where to be seen.

"Think he ran away?" Washington asked,

"Really Wash? You think he just said, eh not today, and left?" York cut in.

"Maybe,"

"No."

Carolina decided to ignore their useless banter this time as her eyes scanned the battlefield. They were still here, but where? What was their plan? They had Carolina pinned down pretty well, but without the cover of the smoke she doubted he could have held that position for much longer. Especially considering ammunition was a concern.

But no matter how hard she looked, there was no clues to where they went. She one hundred percent, did not like this.

Then, heard through out the battlefield like a pin being dropped in an empty hallway, the sound of a click then followed by a hiss was heard clearly. Washington and York turned to their feet to see a grenade had found itself right in front of them on the ground.

"Son of a bit-"

"Oh shit!"

Both leaped from their position around the corner as they jumped into the open area of the battlefield. Washington diving and rolling to his feet as York simply dove onto the ground. The explosion of the grenade propelling them a bit forward as their ears rang. Carolina ducking behind her cover to avoid any possible shrapnel that would be thrown her way.

Washington, rolling to his feet and standing straight up readying his weapon in his shoulder. Scanning to the right towards where the tower fell, he would be met with the butt of a gun being slammed into the side of his head. "Gah!" He coughed out as he crashed into the ground.

York making his way to his feet aimed his shotgun from behind the attacker. His eye narrowing as he pointed the barrel of the gun towards their head. With a pump of his shotgun he began to squeeze the trigger. Only for the attacker to roll and lift to the gun barrel towards the sky. The shotgun went off, however missing as the attacker held the barrel with on hand.

Bringing his free hand around, carrying his weapon, he slammed it into the Freelancer's gut. Doubling him over with a cough as he released his grip on the shotgun. York then received the same treatment as Wash, as the back of his now free hand made it's way into the side of York's helmet. Sending him to the ground with Washington.

Raising his weapon he pointed it at Washington, ready to fire and kill. However, before he could get a shot off a foot was planted into the side of his head. Causing him to lose a couple steps of footing and stumble to the side. Turning on his heel he met Carolina, spinning to gain momentum and sending another kick to his weapon. Effectively knocking it out of his hands.

Yet, as she raised one of her plasma and went to fire, he pushed it to the side with his open right hand. The plasma shots being sent behind him as Carolina continued to squeeze the trigger. He kept a tight grip on her wrist as she struggled to break free. The attacker following up with his left fist being brought down onto Carolina's shoulder, causing her to drop the plasma rifle.

"Gah!" She spit out, as she regained her focus. Still locked in place by his grip, she went to strike at his head by bringing the other rifle across with to connect the side of the rifle with his helmet to break his grip.

Quickly ducking under the swipe, Carolina followed up with a high kick aimed for his side. But, with his superior strength, he caught it underneath his arm as he locked not only her arm but her leg in his grip. He let go of her arm only to bring the now free hand on top of her wrist. Causing her to drop her other rifle.

Gliding his feet across the ground towards Carolina's one support foot, the black armored attacker brought his right elbow up to her face. A loud crack as their armor's plating collided. Throwing her head back, she kept her stance strong. To break her, he threw his head forward. Slamming into her helmet once more.

Letting out a grunt as her head was thrown back once more, she blinked a few times underneath her helmet to regain her focus. Only to find it getting more blurry. Noticing her stance weakening, he shifted his grip, moving her leg up and over his right shoulder as he threw her weight over.

Throwing Carolina over his shoulder and adding force to slam her into the ground. She coughed as the air was expelled from her lungs. Laying face first into the ground, having only enough strength to turn herself over.

Her eyes laid on the attacker, wearing black armor. A design she had never seen before. His height making him easily tower over even the likes of Maine. He was strong, skilled, unlike anything she had ever faced before. She was utterly beaten into the ground.

Noble Six looked down at the three that he had quickly neutralized. He had already placed all of the explosives for the rest of the outpost. Gathered all the data he needed and now he had information concerning the fighting styles and skill levels of three Agents. Carolina, Washington and New York.

Reaching for his pistol on his side, Six readied himself to finish the mission with the addition of taking out some Freelancers. Yet, before he could do so a shimmer shuffled it's way across the ground. Moving faster than any of the Freelancer he had watched before.

However, given his Spartan augmentations he was able to track the movement clearly. Bending backwards to allow a strike to fly right over his head. Being caught of guard, a kick followed to his side. Connecting swiftly as the impact was felt deep within his rib cage.

A loud thud, like when two hard objects collide, was the result was the kick connected. Causing Six to step once to the left. Then with the opening from the kick, a fist planted in his mid section that sent him off his feet and into the ground. Landing and sliding to a stop on his back.

Pain shot through out his midsection and body as the wound he had received weeks prior was still freshly healing. Mostly a sore spot in his body, it was quickly reawaken from the force of the punch. The Heads Up Display flashed and warned him of his midsection weak spot.

"Ah!" Six hissed out as he gripped his stomach as he rolled to his side. Using his free hand to support his weight in standing back up.

Agent Texas uncloaked, allowing her midnight black armor to stand confident among the battlefield. Her sight went to Carolina, before looking over to York and Wash. Who were slowly making their way to their feet.

"Hurry the hell up and get her the fuck out of here you two. I'll handle this." Texas demanded as she kept her eyes on Six. In the meantime York gently grabbing Carolina and supporting her to walk as she gripped her shoulder in pain.

"You sure you got this? We can stay and help." York commented, turning around as Carolina's uninjured arm was wrapped around York. In response Texas merely turned to look him, her stance said it all. "Right, plenty scary. Getting the hell out of here."

As the three made their way away from the outpost and to an evacuation point. Texas took a step forward towards Noble Six. The Spartan now fully on his feet and shaking off any sore or tight areas. He was ready this time.

They circled each other, both of them keeping their arms at their sides as they awaited the perfect time to strike.

"Alright asshole, who do you work for?" Texas asked, her voice sharp as a knife. However, it seemed to roll right off of Six as he continued to walk around. Assessing his target. "Not the talking type, huh? I almost like that in a man."

Six tilted his head in confusing for a moment before Texas ran at him. Throwing his fists up in a ready position as she charged. Planting his foot forward, Six threw a punch. Aiming to catch the Black armored Freelancer in her assault.

Texas quickly jumped to the side, using the one foot she landed on to leap into the air and pull her fist back. Throwing it forward towards Six's helmet the Spartan quickly moved his head to the side. Sending his inside hand upwards to collide with Texas' chin.

The Spartan connected, throwing her head up as she landed on both feet. Regaining her footing, Six went to follow up with another strike only for it to meet her forearms brought up to block his punch. The strength from his punch caused Texas to slide back a foot or so. Giving her and Six enough space to reset.

Thus they began in a series of quick jabs and solid punches. The Spartan stepping towards Texas so they were a mere half a foot away as he threw two jabs, one left then one right. They were both deflected, one meeting her forearm the other being pushed to the side. She followed this pattern, throwing her own quick punches which were deflected or blocked.

They continued, picking up the pace as they exchanged blows. The timing between the strikes becoming less and less as they got faster and faster. The sounds of fist meeting armor, a muffled thud, echoing as small sounds of grunts came with the force of their strikes.

The two were locked, unable to move as to not give an opening to their deadly opponent. Deciding to mix it up, Texas threw a kick to Six's side only for it to be pushed back to the ground. Raising his knee to match her mix up of moves, she looked her fingers together and caught it. Then closing her hands together and bringing them up. Catching Six underneath by his chin.

However, in the wake of her hands being thrown up and Six recovering, the Spartan threw his other knee into her chest. Doubling her over, a blow for a blow. Pulling back his fist for a strike towards the side, Texas opened her hand and caught it. Going for a strike towards his head only for Six to catch it.

Soon they locked their hands together, being forced into a battle of strength as they both planted their feet. Wishing to over power the other to gain an opening. Texas raised her head and looked into Six's visor.

"Not too bad. No wonder you've been able to give the Project such a hard time." She said, a slight excitement coming to her voice. The smile could be heard clearly in her words. Her eyes went to the side of his helmet, where his visor met the base of the armor. It had a tiny label, right next to the UNSC label all designs of armor had. "B-312 huh? That's a Spartan tag isn't it. I guess I should feel honored. But I expected a bit more."

Six's eyes widened underneath his helmet. She knew about him, that was an advantage he was hoping to not have given up so quickly. Despite how sore his midsection was he knew he had to end this or risked the mission going south completely.

Tightening his grip he yanked Texas towards him, throwing his head forward with enough force to crack her visor. The loud smash of their two helmets colliding emphasizing the strength behind it. Texas let out a grunt as the impact hit her full force.

Letting go of her hands, Six wrapped both of his around her helmet. Sending her head towards his knee which came up half way. Causing yet another loud collision. Stumbling backwards, Six spun around and planted his foot in her midsection. Causing her to fall backwards on her back.

Pulling his pistol from his side he took aim. Squeezing the trigger as the weapon screamed in result. Texas rolled to the side, continuing to desperately dodge the volley of pistol rounds sent flying her way.

Rolling to a set of debris she jumped to her feet, leaping behind the rubble as the bullets collided with the concrete. Standing up between a wave of bullets, Texas planted her foot onto the large piece of concrete and hurled it forward.

The rock slammed into the Spartan. Causing Six to stumble as Texas dashed forward, throwing her weight into him sending him off his feet and back first into the wall used to defend the outpost.

Shaking his head, Six looked up to see a fist flying towards his face. "AAAHH!" Texas cried as she threw her fist forward. Rolling out of the way, the fist went into the wall, locking the Freelancer in place.

Planting his one foot, Six threw all his strength forward into a kick. Kicking Texas in the back and through the wall with a cloud of dust. Planting her face first into the ground. She was quick to move to her feet but as she did so, the butt end of his pistol met her face. Followed by a kick to her leg, forcing her to her knee.

Looking up with her cracked visor, she looked down the barrel of his pistol. Silence came over the battlefield as the area settled. No longer were there two titans stomping around destroying it more than it had already been destroyed. Then, with his finger on the trigger, Six squeezed.

Empty.

The tension in the area could have been cut with a knife. But before Texas could say anything, Six's fist came to the side of her head. Sending her to the ground.

He watched for a second. Making sure she was really down this time. Then his hand went to his stomach as his knees shook and almost buckled. His injury was really messing with his focus and given his sore body already, pushing it this far was probably not within the Doctor's recommendations.

Catching himself to not fall. Six reached behind him for the detonator. Pressing the red button on top and causing the outpost to explode. What little of it was left anyway. Turning towards the way he came, Six raised his fingers to his helmet. "Command this is Six, outpost destroyed."

_"Copy that Noble Six, did you eliminate any targets?" _

"Negative, I-"

_"Why not?" _

"I thought the primary target was the Director, Sir."

_"If you are to run into any Freelancers, they will be eliminated. They are major security risks and will have to be handled in the future whether or not the Director is killed tomorrow or next week. Do you understand, Spartan."_

Turning his head, Six looked at Texas. Laying on the ground with her visor cracked and damaged. "I understand,"

_"Good, were you able to gather any useful information? Do you have your next move planned?"_

"I have an idea." Six said before letting go of his helmet. Letting the call drop. Placing the pistol at his side he turned to where his DMR had been thrown. Walking over with a sore limp, he reached down and picked it up. Placing the weapon on his back before walking again.

He stepped over Agent Texas. Shaking his arm to regain feeling and to loosen it. Glancing at her one more time, he turned towards the horizon. The plains in front of him, filled with tall grass being what was between him and his Sabre. Marching forward, he left Texas on the ground.

He was sure he would see her again. Both of them.


	6. Blue vs Red

**Hey everyone! I am not dead and neither is this story. Things just have been crazy with this whole thing going down and stuff at my work. I have moved two times in like the last two months or so. That is fun. However I want to thank everyone for their support for this story. I have a lot planned out for this story and I hope it goes as well as I hope. For now we have a new chapter! Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Blue Vs Red

* * *

The Mother of Invention. The UNSC Frigate styled space cruiser, home to Project Freelancer and it's Agents. Working as a mobile headquarters for Project Freelancer during it's prime. Currently floating through space with no destination in mind. One of the many camouflages the space station had when it came to enemy tracking.

With no permanent station and constantly on the move around the galaxy, the Mother of Invention did pretty well to stay invisible. With the deep resources that seemed to have beeb gifted to Project Freelancer, they were free to stop at any of their controlled refueling stations without fear of enemy attack or information compromise.

At least that is how it used to be.

Now the environment of the ship was rather unsteady. It all began with the arrival of the newest Agent, Agent Texas. Who had quickly made a name for herself by defeating not one, or two, but three Agents all at one time in many different combative situations. One of those three being the current number three and previous number two. On top of that, she quickly climbed the ranks of the leaderboard and become Freelancer's number one Agent. Above the long runner number one Carolina.

Texas' missions were quickly treated as legendary stories among personnel around the ship as rumors of her spread like wild fire. Stories of her, fighting entire armies, blowing up whole buildings, and even fighting along side the Master Chief, had currently made an impact on the morale of the whole Mother of Invention personnel. Despite some of these stories being rather false.

Yet it also caused a lot of conflict and tension. For Agent Carolina, the previous target for unreasonable rumors, who had been demoted to rank number two and now seen as the second best Agent Freelancer had to offer.

These were minor shakes and changes to the environment as a whole compared to the tidal wave of rumors that spread once Agents, Washington, New York, North and South Dakota, Carolina and Texas returned from failed mission to protect a Freelancer outpost. Not only had the tension on the ship risen many times over, but also with the added rumor of a mole within the ranks of Freelancer, feeding information to the resistance, there were many to doubt the future of the program.

Stories of a single soldier had been the current buzz around the ship. Stories of said soldier completely wiping out whole squadrons of Freelancer security personnel, neutralizing multiple Agents, and crippling Freelancer progression by limiting the resources available. And to the Agent that held the number two spot, it was a rather sore topic to discuss.

"Hey man, did you hear?" A soldier asked his partner as they walked, weapons in hand, down a Freelancer hallway. Two regular Freelancer personnel assigned with security detail to patrol the ship and ensure it's safety.

His partner, looking to his left slightly as he continued to walk forward down the empty hallway. The wall lined with the nothing more than artificial lighting that provided the only hint at what time of day it was aboard the ship. Given there was no sunrise or sunset in space, it proved to be rather useful.

"Hear about what?"

"Reaper?" The first soldier asked, his voiced laced with a 'really you haven't heard' sarcastic tone.

"Who?"

"That's what they're calling the guy that took down Texas and Carolina! The same guy who has been blowing up all our outposts and supply stations! You know, I knew a guy, who knew a guy, that had a brother that was stationed on one of those outposts. Guy was blown the fuck up, said the dude didn't even act human!"

"Reaper? Really. . .Heh." A scoff could be heard from the other man as he shrugged his shoulders. "Wait, how the hell do you even know that this story is real if the guy telling the story was killed?"

"What do you mean?"

"You just said he was blown up!"

"He lived long enough to tell the story, then he died of his wounds."

"That makes no sense."

"Shut up and just listen," The guy snapped as he threw his fist into the guys shoulder. Taking a deep breath and continuing to walk alongside him. "Anyway, apparently he was moving so fast he was out running bullets! His armor was black as midnight. And he fought with two swords! Or wait. . .was it two scythes?"

A deep breath could be heard from the other guy as he shook his head. "That doesn't sound real."

"Yeah whatever dude. Don't come crying to me when he comes aboard this ship and kills you."

"Like that's gonna happen. I mean, do you really think he beat both Texas and Carolina? Both of them? You seen what Texas did to York, Maine and Wyoming! I just don't see it."

With a shrug of his shoulders, the other guard looked away. "Hey man, believe what you want. I'm the one that seen Texas' helmet. Shit was fucked."

A small chuckle came from the other man. "Whatever dude, I don't believe it."

An arm would make its way around the one man's shoulders. Carrying his gun in his free hand as they continued to walk down the hallway. "Don't worry, buddy. I'll fight him off. I can probably take him, then after that. Carolina might go out with me."

Throwing the arm off of him, the other guard shook his head again. "Don't let her hear you say that. I heard she shot a guy out of the airlock after he asked for her number."

"Yeah maybe, you're right. I heard she ripped a guy in half after he sat next to her at lunch."

The guard looked at his friend for a moment. "You're an idiot. I don't think anything you say is true."

"Hey man, my sources are-" As the two went to turn a corner the one guard was cut off by a loud thud. Another body crashing into him sending him to the floor. His friend, still standing, looked at the man and laughed as he fell. Muttering some curse words, he stood up and went to say something only to feel an intense glare crash down on him. Both of them freezing in place to see Agent Carolina, speak of the devil, standing and looking at both of them.

Her glare could be felt behind her helmet and theirs. Despite the visors that protected them, it was like she was shooting bullets into their skulls. Completely frozen as her overwhelming and clearly pissed off, aura choked them nearly to death. She was plenty more scary in person than any story had ever said.

"Don't you two have a job to be doing instead of running your mouths?" She asked, despite how calm it seemed, each word dripping with anger. An anger that could only be described as so raging hot it was cold as ice.

The guards had quickly frozen up at the position of attention and spit out a response as quickly as possible to not further piss her off. "Yes, ma'am!"

She leaned close, the glare almost intensifying exponentially as she did so. Looking between both of them as she clearly but quietly spoke. "If I see it again, I'll rip you both in half next. Then shoot your asses out of the airlock."

In response, bedsides nearly wetting themselves. They nodded their heads. Before turning on their heels and basically running down the hallway. Getting as much distance as they could between them and Carolina.

Watching them run, she let out an angry growl before continuing on her way. The Director wanted to brief her on a mission she was being sent out on. Apparently to test some new equipment against some simulation Troopers. Given that she had just gotten out of physical therapy for her shoulder and the loss to not only that solider but also Texas was very vividly still in her mind, this was something she needed.

Simply put, she was a walking time bomb of rage. And these Simulation Troopers would hopefully relieve some of that anger. Hopefully.

Yet as the Agent came to the door that would lead to the control room of the ship, the area that seemed to be where the Director spent most of his time, she stopped. Her mind wondered to thoughts concerning her spot on the leader board. There had to be more she could give, there had to be more room for improvement. Right now she was stuck, no matter the amount of training, how much she pushed herself she seemed to stay right where she was.

She raised her head slightly and turned towards the board. Her visor reflecting the names that were displayed. As of right now, her place stayed the same, number two. The gap between herself and Texas stayed the same. No matter the amount of points she gained for any amount of missions, she did not move.

Was this really all she had to offer? Was this really as far as she could go?

She clenched her jaw together, balling her hand into a fist as she thought about Texas. But, the worst part was, she was far from being the best. That soldier, from the report, that Spartan, he was able to beat both her and Texas. How was she supposed to beat that! If she could not even beat Texas, how was it that she could beat him!

UNSC Spartans were the top soldiers, the best of the best, trained weapons. Stories of them being able to take own entire armies of Covenant in the Great War only further proved her point. Was it even realistic at this point for her to even try? How could she fight the best the UNSC had to offer it just was not fair!

No. . .She could not think like that. The tension she had with her fist was released as she opened her hand. With a narrow of her eyes and a deep breath she raised her head and relaxed. There was a way, there had to be. First she would beat Texas, then that Spartan was next. Up until now there was never any challenges that she could not handle. She just had to put in the work. She could not give up. Not now.

If she did that, _he_ would never be happy. _He_ would never look at her the same way again.

"Agent Carolina," The door in front of her must have opened without her realizing it. Standing in front of her with his arms behind his back was the Director. No different than the last time she had seen him. "Are you ready? We will be sending you to test some of our newer equipment against some simulation troopers. We expect great things."

She straightened herself and took a step forward. Her body filling with determination. She had to do this, she just had to. Losing was not an option. "Of course, Sir. You can count on me."

* * *

The sun was high in the sky as the time of day was noon. Its rays beating down on anything not fortunate enough to find shade. The only catch, there was little shade to be found. As the Sun positioned itself over a canyon, little grass or trees to be found to produce natural shade. However, instead of plants and other life, there were structures. Two to be exact. Military bases constructed on each side of the canyon, leaving exposed middle to no one.

One Red base and one Blue base.

Sitting on top of the rock side of the Canyon, the natural mountains that surrounded the area in question, Noble Six held his DMR tight into his arm. Positioning the scope of the rifle up into his visor as he used the weapon to scan the area.

This was mostly an empty box canyon, other than the two bases, on a planet far away from any civilization. The only living people being a two groups of soldiers that had established bases on each side. They were militarized, armed with weapons, the Red side being armed with a Warthog and the Blue side having their own tank.

However, despite their attempts to prove they are their own militaries. . .they did nothing. Six had been scouting them for hours, all they have done is eat, sleep, and stand around. The Blues had tried to figure out how to drive the tank only for the tank to open fire on its own team. The Reds seemed to be doing. . .military drills? Mostly the commanding officer, or so Six assumed, yelling at the orange one as the brown one worked on many little projects on the base.

What was happening here?

Lowering his weapon, he stopped his scouting and continued to stay on one knee. His eyes went to the side of his Heads Up Display, double checking the coordinates. This was the place. These were the coordinates he had gotten through the information he stole from the last Freelancer Outpost.

So why did Freelancer take interest in a place like this?

The information Six had gathered specifically listed this canyon many times. From the description give, he believed this to be some sort of facility that was used for equipment testing. From the looks of it there was no equipment to be tested, no trained personnel. Just, Red and Blue soldiers.

The equipment the soldiers had were similar to the equipment Freelancer provided its Agents. Yet, there was no information on Red and Blue soldiers in the initial brief provided to him by the Office. There was no information concerning these soldiers in any of data he had collected from raids. Not to mention, this base was not listed on the list of outposts he had gained after his first raid on a Freelancer information storage.

If these soldiers were apart of Freelancer, they surely did not look like it. Given they had separated themselves into two different factions meant that they wished to oppose each other in some fashion. But, would that not be counterproductive? If both groups of soldiers were enlisted by Freelancer why would they fight each other? To be honest this did not make much sense.

Despite the differences the bases established between each other, there was another strange encounter the two factions had. One blue soldier would often talk and communicate with a red one, well actually he was orange. So maybe they were not enemies after all, perhaps they were squadrons of soldiers. Red and Blue colors used to distinguish the different squadrons, it would make sense why there were two bases then.

But would it not be a little extreme to base an entire squadron around a single color? The way they acted they seemed more like two different armies, though he supposed it was not impossible. Perhaps it was pride in their squadron and they wanted to show it? Such actions and feelings did exist to an extent in Military Basic training to this day.

_If_ they were fighting they did a rather poor job of showing it. Most of the time the two groups stood and talked to each other. They had plenty of opportunities to coordinate and execute assault missions. Given the defenses of each base, it would be rather easy even with basic infantry training.

To be fair if these soldiers were apart of Project Freelancer they would be considered enemies. But given how. . .untrained they were or seemed to be, they would be little threat to him or anyone. But this situation, this setup, it did remind Six of one memory he had while trying to complete his final Spartan training.

Noticing movement from the Blue base, the Spartan decided to push the thoughts to the back of his head. Standing on his feet, he looked down at the base, holding his weapon tight into his arm. How should he approach this situation? He had no orders in regards to eliminating these soldiers and the Office never asked for his next assignment so, all in all, it was up to his judgement.

If they were apart of Project Freelancer, Six found it hard to think he would let them walk away. Given his orders concerning the Project, leaving any loose ends was unacceptable to any degree. But then again. . .killing people that had no part in this, that was almost the same as killing innocent people. That was not his assignment.

Even if it had been in the past.

So perhaps it would be best to simply go down there. That was a rather simple plan, given the read on the situation, he figured that's all he needed. But what if they were enemies? Then he would be completely exposing himself. Maybe it would be best to try something more. . .his style? Without killing anyone, yet that was.

Taking a step back, he decided either way he had to make his way down there and meet them himself. First he would visit the Blue soldiers. Then the Reds. Hopefully after that he could set up for his plan.

If it worked, the Director and all of Project Freelancer would taken care of within the next couple of days.

* * *

"Dude, I'm telling you it is."

"No, just no, that doesn't make any sense!"

Two voices could be heard at the front of the Blue base. Standing aimlessly with no intention or purpose was a light blue soldier, a cobalt color holding a sniper rifle. Yet by the way he held it, he was not very comfortable with the long ranged weapon. Doubtful that he could hit anything at a significant distance. The other, another shade of light blue but an aqua of some sort. Holding in his hands a battle rifle. The standard issue weapon that seemed to be the main weapon used by most soldiers other than a few.

"Dude, fire is totally burnt." The one in aqua armor commented.

"No, fire burns things. Not burns itself. It's like that stupid argument about water." The one with the sniper aggressively shot back.

"But water is wet."

"No it's fucking not!"

"Guys, guys. We all know, uh, water is blue. Duh." Another voice cut in, the third and final soldier apart of the Blue army. This one had blue armor, the stand issue blue with his battle rifle in his hand. Yet he was standing in front of a mountain of metal scraps. Seeming to be tinkering with something.

"Loco, sometimes I wonder how you see the world. Like- Wait, what the fuck are you building?" The one with the sniper commented. Turning to face the darker blue soldier.

"Oh, this is uh. Yeah you see. Buckey said he wanted a girlfriend, and Shelly was too. . .mine. . .for him. So I said I would build one." Loco commented.

"Damn right, build me a babe, Loco. We are gonna get busy tonight. Boom-Chicka-Wah-Wah." Buckey stated.

"You're fucking disgusting. But I better not see you watching any more porn on my computer." The one with the sniper added.

"Oh, Temple, chill out dude. I didn't just watch it, I downloaded it. That way I can come back later."

"I fucking hate you. I want you to know that."

"Gah! I have been captured!" Loco screamed out. Temple and Buckey standing in front of him, paying him no mind shrugged off his cry.

"Yeah yeah, okay. Just shut up and work, idiot." Temple commented, waving a hand in his direction. Paying no mind to warning that had come from the blue soldier. Yet they both tensed as the sound of a weapon charging echoed through out the empty space in front of the base.

"Unfortunately I have questions that need answers." A different cut through the tension that had been building. Before the two could move, the voice commanded something else. "Turn around, slowly. I wouldn't try anything."

Temple and Buckey did so and slowly began to turn around. When they did so they came face to face with a soldier clad in black. A knife pulled and pressed against Loco's neck and a pistol aimed in front of him. Changing position between the two of them.

"Look if you're going to shoot the idiot do so, save me the damn trouble." Temple commented, despite being rather tense he also seemed rather serious about allowing a teammate to be killed.

Noble Six tilted his head for a second. He was serious serious? Just like that? These soldiers were really something else. Maybe it was something covert, black ops, he had been trained in how to handle interrogation. Both receiving and dealing. Perhaps they were just highly trained-

"Ah, god. He is terrible at giving hugs!" Loco screamed wiggling against the weight of the knife pressed to his neck. "Surely there is more to this! Oh! Have you brought presents."

"Loco, just the hell up. That's not how you're supposed to act when you're captured!" Temple screamed, forgetting about the current situation and its danger.

"Yeah dude, you're supposed to totally break out and use your awesome fighting moves." Buckey chipped in.

"No! Shut up! Wait actually- Please try and break out so he kills you." Temple corrected.

"Very funny, why would I be in danger. That's not what hugs are about." Loco replied back.

"That isn't a hug!"

Never mind, Six mentally took back anything and everything he was just saying. The Spartan lowered the weapon and slowly lowered the knife. "Are you soldiers apart of Project Freelancer. Identify yourself."

Temple and Buckey exchanged a look before turning back to Noble Six. Temple took a step forward, holding the sniper rifle loosely in his hands. "Uh, no? We are apart of blue army. You know," He waved his hands around, mentioning everything around him. "The very reason why everything is blue."

Noble Six narrowed his eyes underneath his helmet. Blue Army? There was no listing of such a military in any records he had on file. There were supposed to be no other military forces in this area of space other than Freelancer. Maybe the eventual appearance of Charon, but. . .who exactly were these people.

"Look," Temple spoke up. "I'm Temple, leader of Blue Team."

"Who made you the leader?" Buckey cut in.

"Uh, command."

"When?"

"When I got this sniper."

"So if I get the sniper I'm leader?"

"That's not how that works,"

"But you just said-"

"Shut the hell up! I know what I said!" Temple turned away from Buckey with a huff and a deep breath. "Okay," He said to himself before calming down. "Anyway, I'm Temple, the leader of this base. This is Buckey, my assistant-"

"Fuck no."

"Buckey! Shut the fuck up! My god! Just be quiet!" Temple exploded, his voice reaching a higher level of pitch as he raised his voice. If someone could see Six's face right now, it would not be very impressed. Like at all. "And the idiot, is Loco. Now, who the hell are you?" He asked, his voice dripping with frustration.

The Spartan decided that whoever these soldiers are. . .they were not enemies. At least more so to themselves given their training than other people. So releasing the one known as Loco completely, Six placed the pistol at his side while sheathing the knife away. Regaining this thoughts a little, he spoke. "I'm. . ." How should he address himself? Given what he knew he doubted they would understand how to identify a Spartan Tag. "Sierra B-"

"Sierra? Ain't that a girls name." Buckey cut the Spartan off, turning back towards Temple as Loco made his way to the side. Brushing himself off a little.

"Sure dude, but I mean there are plenty of people using gender neutral names." Temple commented turning to answer Buckey's question. "I mean like Jamie, uh. . ."

"Frank." Loco added.

"Who the fuck would name their daughter Frank, Loco."

"Who's daughter?"

Temple turned back towards Six. "Hey, can you go back to holding him? I'll try harder for you to kill him this time."

". . ." Six remained still, quiet even as his brain tried to connect the dots. What was going on here? These were soldiers. . .right? They were trained soldiers. Like, military? Not even during his time on Reach had he met soldiers so, different. Not ever in his entire career.

"Sierra?"

The Spartan moved his head a little, acknowledging the name that had been given to him as his visor completely emphasized his blank stare. "My name isn't- Never mind. Your military ? Can I see them?"

"Oh, sure." Temple said, reaching into one of the many storage holders on his armor and grabbing his wallet. Pulling it out while leaning the sniper on the ground. He reached and grabbed a card, handing it to the Spartan.

Six took it in his hand and looked down at it. Turning it over and running his eyes over it. The orange visor reflecting the card as the rest of the blue soldiers looked at him with question. Slowly but surely Six raised his head. "This. . .This is a civilian drivers license." Flipping the card over he showed it to the blue soldiers. "With sharpie written on the back saying, military ID."

Temple shrugged his shoulders, snatching the card out of Six's hand and putting it back in his wallet. "Hey dude, not my fault! Alright, Blue command said they ran out of those so this was the best they could do." He said as he placed the wallet back in his armor. "At least my name isn't totally a chicks name."

Six stared blankly at Temple for a moment. "My name isn't- Wait, Blue command? You have a command center? Do you have the radio frequency? I need to confirm this immediately."

"Chill out dude, yeah I got it right here."

The Spartan eyes the radio frequency numbers closely. Typing in the frequency into his wrist pad that was connected to his helmet. Watching as his Heads Up Display ran the numbers, the message illuminated in green appeared. _'Frequency Confirmed'. _

Taking a deep breath, then a sigh in relief. Maybe this would not be a complete waste of time. If he could figure out some information concerning this 'Blue Army' maybe he could figure out why Freelancer was so interested in this canyon and these soldiers. There had to be something he was missing. But what?

Nodding his head, Six looked to Temple. "I'm going to contact your Command. I'll be right over there." Six added, getting a nod from the soldier with the sniper before the Spartan walked away.

Taking a few steps away, ensuring that he would be able to have a conversation without being interrupted. Six raised his hand to his helmet, pressing two fingers to the side as his helmet buzzed. Then a voice came through the communication speakers within his helmet.

_"Hello, hello. What's up dude! This is Blue Command, Bluey Blue. How can I help ya, Dude."_

Six could not help but drop his shoulders a little bit. What. . .the actual. . . "Blue Command, this Sierra Br-"

_"Oh Sierra, excuse me Ma'am. Did not mean to be rude. So Sorry."_

"I'm not a female."

_"Oh dude, parents totally hated ya didn't they? Sorry to hear that dude. Anyway, this is Blue Command. How can Vic help ya." _

"I need military confirmation concerning the soldiers at my location. I also require authorization codes for military deployment of soldiers in this area, following UNSC Instruction thirty six dash twenty nine zero three."

There was silence on the communications for a moment. _"Oh uh, of course dude. Let me get that real quick for ya. Just need to uh. . .look in my desk dude."_ There were obvious sounds of papers being moved. Of course, it sounded like a recording of just papers being thrown onto the ground. "_Oh here dude. Sending it to ya. Shoulda got it. Anyway thanks for calling Blue Command. Later, don't call back." _

Six's eyes went to the side of his helmet, there was no messages. "Negative I did not-" The call was cut right there. Leaving a constant tone in the man's absence. The Spartan stood in silence for a moment, simply listening to the tone. "You have to be joking." He said to himself, his calm and collected Spartan attitude starting to crack.

Taking another breather Six turned around and walked back over to the group of three Blue soldiers. They seemed to have forgotten about everything that had just happened, for they were back to standing around and talking about something else.

However, upon noticing the larger soldier they stopped and turned to him.

"You talk to Vic? Yeah that guy's an asshole." Temple commented as he looked into the visor of Six.

The Spartan slowly turned his head towards Temple. Tilting his head slightly in question. He knew him? Vic? That was the name he gave Six at the beginning of the call. Usually command had many operatives running COMMs unless it was a more personalized mission like the one Six was currently on. "I did, is VIC your supervisor?"

"Hell no. Just some dude that calls us when Blue Command hires Freelancers to come and help out. Last month they sent some dude to come here and blow some shit up. Guy had a whale helmet. Craziest shit I've ever seen." Temple commented,

"Nice guy though." Buckey cut in.

"Yeah nice guy." Temple agreed.

Though something caught Six's attention. Temple just said that Blue command hired Freelancers? From what he understood Freelancers were not Mercenaries. The Director was not in the business of selling his soldiers for dirty work. At least from Six had gathered, there had to be a reason. The Director usually had one. "You said they hired someone? You're sure he was a Freelancer?"

Temple looked to the sky for a moment. Humming. "Uh, yeah. Pretty sure. Called himself Agent Illinois of Project Freelancer so I think so."

Noble Six knew the name, he was one of the Agents listed to still be active. He was the teams demolition expert. Despite not being one of the top ten, his skills with a rifle and in combat were above average excluding his abilities with explosives. "Do you know what they paid him? Information? Weapons?"

"I'm assuming just money? What else."

The Spartan lowered his gaze for a moment, getting lost in his thoughts. That could not be right, that did not add up. For a small military such as the 'Blue Army' to pay Freelancers for what again? What did they even need them for? Did that mean that the other side, the 'Red Army' could also pay some other third party soldiers?

Secondly, what did Freelancer get out this? If they were paid to help fight or do whatever they needed them to, surely Freelancer had enough funds to get them by. The Spartan seriously doubted that they needed money from paid jobs such as this. So what was the real reason Project Freelancer was so interested in this canyon?

Though, in a way, it did make sense. At least a little. If Project Freelancer was receiving some sort of reward for helping these two armies in whatever was happening, then it would make sense to continue it? Perhaps they mentioned it because, like Six had thought, they were sending Agents here. And soon.

His plan did depend on Agents showing up, originally Six thought he could use whatever was here to lure them to his location. But he supposed it would make his job easier if they came to him. The only question was, when?

The Spartan broken himself out of his thoughts. Raising his head to meet Temple's gaze. "Are you aware of any Freelancers coming to visit soon? Anything Blue command paid them for to help with?"

Temple shook his head. "No I don't think so. I mean we are supposed to be fighting the Reds but, you've seen what we do here. Fighting isn't really our thing."

That was putting it lightly. "So your main objective is to overthrow Red base? Take over their supplies? Then you can move on to your next mission." Six commented, he was trying to piece together the purpose of whatever was happening here. Slowly but surely, it was sort of making sense. Only a little.

"Why would we want two bases?" Buckey added.

"Yeah, no. We've never wanted that. We assumed we just take their flag. Then, like, that's it. Haven't really thought that far ahead." Temple commented.

Six narrowed his eyes once more. The more and more he seemed to talk with these soldiers the more and more he came to realize there were a lot more questions then they seemed to have answers to. If they had any answers to begin with. "A flag? That's your objective."

"Yeah dude, why else would there be two bases in a canyon." Buckey stated.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Six said quietly, more so to himself than anyone else. "Alright I need a status report of the current situation."

"Huh?" Temple asked confused.

"Staus report." Six repeated.

"Oh he's asking you how your day is going! Mine is going well." Loco added from the back.

"No Loco shut the hell up. I think he wants to know how the base is? Right? That's it?" Temple asked.

Six stopped for a moment. Seriously? They didn't even know how to give a proper report concerning mission objectives, bases supplies and soldier morale and health? An overall percentage of mission readiness? "Sure. Show me the base."

"Why didn't you just say so. Come on. Follow me." Temple said waving his hand towards the entrance of the base.

It was rather simple layout, a two story base. The first and bottom floor housing a main area as well as a barracks with a hand full of rooms. A shared bathroom that allowed for five stalls and five showers. A small dining area equipped with what looked like a. . .burnt kitchen? And some tables. The slight illumination of blue lights running alongside the walls and floor.

It was without a doubt Blue base. But to the Noble Six, it seemed for like a storage facility. Given there were plenty of empty storage containers, moving equipment that was either broken or old, and the amount of scrapes and dents in the walls suggested there was plenty of supplies stored and moved from this building.

But now, it was a base. Or at least, some what of a base. There was still zero defenses. Unless you counted the handful of larger metal panels that could act as cover int he situation of a firefight. But the strangest object they had, well one of them, was the teleporter. If this was such a low income base, why would you have something experimental? Given most teleporters were safe for use, Six never really seen them in combat unless it was during training.

Training. . .Interesting.

The second object that was rather strange in nature was their flag. Or what they called a flag. It was not traditional by any means. No team emblem, no actual metal flag pole. Not even the flag itself was made of regular material. Instead they had this. . .

This happened to be a broom stick with a pair of blue underwear taped to the top.

"This is it, the flag that we were ordered to protect. It doesn't do much, cause ya know. It's a flag." Temple said standing next to Six as the Spartan stood still, mind blown, yet again, over the object before him. Every time, every single time in the past couple hours he thought he could not be more surprised, he was wrong.

Emile was most definitely laughing at him right now.

"This. . .this is your most important objective? A broom with some underwear." Six commented, keeping a still stance as he stood in front of it.

"Hey man, it may not be the best. But it's our flag. We take pride! Also. . .we lost our old one because we thought it would be a good idea to bury it so the Reds couldn't get it but we forgot where exactly."

"That sounds like a terrible plan."

"Well we know that! Now."

Noble Six took a step forward. Picking the broom. . .flag, in his hands and looking it over. Not because he was interested in the design of the flag but because of what it meant. The more and more he tried to make sense of everything, he couldn't. Everything that this canyon had, the base, the soldiers, the flag, it all reminded him of the same thing.

A game. Training.

The exact same training he had when he was going through the motions to finish his Spartan training. Except his was virtual. Virtual link multiplayer, team slayer, training. Used for testing the abilities of Spartans in realistic combat situations without putting them in true danger. Usually there were two groups of Spartans, two teams.

A Red team.

A Blue team.

And the objective they played the most to teach their soldiers strategy, attack and defending tactics, and most importantly teamwork.

Capture the Flag.

"Hey, Sierra?" Temple called out gaining the attention of the Spartan, causing him to lower the 'flag' and looked at the soldier. "You like the flag huh? I knew you would once you seem the craftsmanship of yours truly up close. Crazy though, who would have thought when I signed up with the UNSC to fight aliens I was going to be stuck guarding a fucking flag. Life's fucked."

"Wait, you what?" Six asked, turning his full attention to the soldier. Now that was interesting, did he hear that correctly? "You said you enlisted into the UNSC?"

"Well yeah, how else do you think I got here. I mean, I grew up on Tantalus. Joined the military with my buddy, Biff. We went to the same high school together. Decided to stick around, watch each others backs." Temple looked off to the side for a moment. "I heard uh, rumors, not long after I got sent here. The colony, it got attacked by the Covenant, heard stories it might have been glassed."

Six stopped for a moment. His thoughts running wild, this soldier grew up in UNSC controlled space. An inner colony. If what he was saying was true, he enlisted into the UNSC as a Marine. Yet he was sent here? To Blue Army? How was that possible? The UNSC had zero control over this army not to mention barely had any influence here. As far as he was aware people get hired into Charon not enlisted. . .He could understand how, given their close resemblance to the UNSC, someone could mistake them but. . .No, this guy was an actual UNSC soldier. At least at one point.

"Tantalus was destroyed. Partially. Half the planet was glassed before the UNSC could rally a force large enough to drive the Covenant back. Unfortunately most of the details concerning that colony are classified and unknown. I'm sorry but I don't know anything else." Six added, his voice dropping slightly. A reminder of what his goal was after this. What was actually happening outside of this canyon.

Temple raised his head a little. "How do you-"

"I fought in the war." Noble Six cut him off. Turning his head away from Temple's gaze. Locking his own eyes and facing his visor more towards the flag in his hands.

"I see. Uh, sorry to hear that. I'm sure that war is more fucked up than I can imagine. And I can imagine some fucked up shit." Temple looked to the side for a moment trying to find a new topic to discuss. "Say, uh, you can stay here. If you need. I'm not really sure why you're here, or who you are Sierra. But if you're UNSC you're a good guy right? We don't get many visitors as you can tell so, we have plenty of room."

Good guy. . .

Six raised his head slightly and lowered the flag. Placing it against the wall as he continued to study it before turning back to face Temple. "Thank you, though I shouldn't be here long. I just have something to handle with Project Freelancer."

"Ah, so you're here for the Agents. That's why you asked about them earlier. Makes sense, some of those guys are dicks. We won't stop ya, can't say we'll help either. We aren't much of anything really. Just a couple of annoying assholes in a canyon." Temple noticed Six continuing to glance at the flag. "Say, why are you so interested in that thing anyway."

"Just reminded me of something familiar."

* * *

**Alright everyone that is it! Just a chapter about Six meeting the Blues and Reds. Perhaps a sneak peak at what will come when he meets the main cast later down the line. Either way I hope you all enjoyed a little break from all the action but a little story progression here and there. I hope to have the next chapter out like really soon so we will see! Review and I will catch you all next time! **


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